The Many Harry Potters of Little Hangleton
by VivyPotter
Summary: How different Harry Potters would have reacted to the graveyard in Little Hangleton... Yeah, Voldemort's in for a nasty shock. I almost feel sorry for him. Includes Slytherin!Harry, Fem!Harry, Plothole!Harry, Sherlock!Harry and Flamboyant!Harry
1. Plothole Harry

******Disclaimer: I do not own anything and all rights go to JK!**

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**A plot-hole-pointing-out Harry visits the graveyard and Voldemort has issues with planning evil schemes.**

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"Why are you calling Pettigrew by his nickname?" Harry asked the Dark Lord. He had enough information by now to realise that the man who tried to kill him very year was making another attempt – and right on time! "I mean, I know who he is. It's really obvious. So why are you acting like you have to conceal his identity? He's not even wearing a mask!"

"I-" Wormtail began to speak, but Harry didn't let him finish.

"-Are you calling him by his old school nickname for fun? Just call him by his name! Do all of your death eaters have code names or something?"

"Lucius, why did you not attempt to seek out your master? The Lestranges-"

"And why are you _naming_ your death eaters? Aren't their identities supposed to be top secret? Isn't there some kind of 'each death eater only knows one other death eater' thing? I mean, that's why they weren't all rounded up after the first war, isn't it? _Now_, if one person squeals – and I doubt these cowardly little worms' ability to keep a secret, if it means they can save their own necks – then you'll have literally _no_ followers. Also, let's face statistics; it's _highly_ likely that I'm going to get out of here, and now I know the identity of each and every one your death eaters!"

"But that's the point Potter- you won't escape this time!"

"Yeah, I will." Harry said disparaging.

"No you wo-"

"Actually, now I think about it – why wasn't I here sooner?" Harry gestured to his surroundings.

"What do you mean, Potter? This was the soonest I could get you here and still enact my GENIUS evil plan for my resurec-"

"Yeeeahhhh…" Harry rolled his eyes and tilted his head to one side. "But it wasn't."

"Explain." Voldemort demanded, looking rather put-out.

"Well, in order to bewitch the Triwizard cup, you had to have a secret agent in a figure of authority, probably Moody if you look at my track record for DADA teachers. Meaning there was no need for this elaborate plot, or the millions of holes in your apparent plan to bring me here, where it could have all gone pear-shaped."

"What holes?" Voldemort shrieked. "My plan was fool-proof!"

"Your whole plan depended on a fourteen year old boy being able to get past challenges that caused even legal adults to struggle! Even if I do 'supposedly' have a lot of power for my age, that's not a very secure plot! Couldn't your agent just have knocked me out at any point and brought me to you? Just a simply stupefy and a short walk to outside the wards and – _bam!_ – you've got me!"

"I-"

"You didn't even need to have an inside man! All Wormtail needed to do was use his animagus form to sneak inside the school and kidnap me! This could all have been over on the first night of school."

The pale face of Lord Voldemort was turning red.

"And that's not even the first place where your plan's a little shaky. I mean, this whole charade depends a lot upon the phrase 'unwillingly given'. If I had just said, 'Here, have some blood!' you would've been _so_ screwed. Also-"

"Potter! Just go!"

"Wha-"

"Take the portkey and just _leave_!"

"But-"

"Please!" Voldemort had his eyes closed and Harry could have sworn he was about to cry. The Boy-Who-Lived-To-Frustrate-The-Dark-Lord shrugged helplessly and walked over to the abandoned cup. Harry glanced over to check if the Dark Lord had changed his mind, but Voldemort just shook his head and gestured for him to leave. Harry Potter picked up the cup and, when he felt the familiar jerking on his naval, he waving at Voldemort and called out, "See you next June! I mean you're so _predictable_-"

Voldemort's scream of frustration was the last thing Harry heard before he arrived at the beginning of the maze.

"Why have I appeared _here_?"


	2. Man-of-action Harry

**This one's a little more graphic...**

**Harry Potter, man of action, visits the graveyard and Voldemort gets the surprise of his life.**

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_"__Avada Kedavra!"_

Well Harry wasn't going to let that happen. Instantly focusing on Cedric (because he was obviously the spare, he was a Hufflepuff for goodness sake!), he banished the Triwizard cup towards the startled boy. Diggory grasped the handles of the portkey instinctively and, with a grunt, he was whisked away. The flash of green light impacted on the gravestone just a few metres away from where Harry stood. With a muffled _boom!_ the Unforgiveable shattered the weathered rock, allowing a light covering of dust to settle on the floor, like slightly macabre snow.

Harry spun towards his attacker, and instincts that had been carefully honed by three years of danger and a previous 10 years of abuse, kicked in. With a flick of his wand, a burst of red light hit the figure, causing the man to drop the bundle with a sickening crunch. Harry winced as he realised that sound was _awfully_ similar to that of bones breaking, something Harry was familiar with after his life with the Dursleys. Nevertheless, Harry didn't hesitate, and swiftly stunned the shadowed figure.

Harry crept over to the unconscious guy, nudging him with his foot. When the man - _Wormtail_, Harry realised – didn't react, Harry grew more confident and aimed a hard kick at Pettigrew's head. Remembering himself, Harry picked up the thing. He peered cautiously into the swathes of cloth. Spotting the veined, bulbous head of the creature, he flinched in shock and dropped the alien-baby. With an awful crunch, the baby's head impacted on the concrete base of a headstone and cracked like an egg. Harry crouched down, having to force down the bile that swelled to the back of his throat when he caught sight of the yellow-whitish _stuff_ that was pooling on the ground. With trembling knees, the Boy-Who-Lived stood up and looked around.

"Well that was easy."


	3. Lovegood Harry

**In which a far-too-Lovegood Harry visits the graveyard, and Lord Voldemort is infected by nargles.**

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"Kill the spare!"

The man shrieked and dropped the bundle of rags, as a flash of green light erupted from his wand, rushed past Harry and hit Cedric. The shrieking male flinched and examined his wand as if he'd never seen it before. His eyes were wide with awe as he inspected his weapon. Harry wasn't sure if he should ask if he was quite alright.

"Fool!" came the shriek. "You dunderhead! You insolent wretch! You should never have been born!"

Harry wondered if Professor Snape had a child.

Lost in his imaginings of a baby with a hooked nose and limp, greasy fluff on its sallow baby head, Harry barely noticed the man drag him towards a marble headstone, slam him against it and conjure tight rope to bind him. When he was finally snapped out of his imaginings by a slightly pathetic slap, he looked straight into the eyes of the betrayer of his parents…

And blinked.

"Oh, hullo." He said, in a vaguely surprised voice. "You again?"

Wormtail didn't reply, which Harry thought was awfully rude, but instead checked the tightness of the cords. Harry looked down and blinked once more. "Ah." He remarked. Wormtail gave him a smirk, clearly trying to be intimidating, which Harry found rather sad.

"That's not your look." Harry informed him, giving the unfortunate man a pitying look. "I'd go for a glazed-over stare, or a grovelling pout."

Wormtail was looked very bewildered.

"There- that's better!" Harry grinned cheerfully, quite proud of himself for this good deed.

"Enough idle chatter! Wormtail – prepare the ritual!" The high-pitched voice rang through the graveyard as clear as a bell.

"A ritual? For the nargles? Your friend's head is full of them." Harry nodded towards the bundle on the floor nearby. At first he listened with fascination to Wormtail' chant. However he was soon bored by the high drone of Peter Pettigrew, and it became a mere buzz in the background of his mind as he tried to figure out exactly how _many_ wizards it would take to levitate Hagrid over a fully grown dragon.

Harry was only brought back to reality when Wormtail used his knife – "I could get an infection from that, you know." – to cut a thin line down the Insane Saviour's arm. Harry watched with detached curiosity as the blood dripped from his wound into the glass phial. "What's that for?" he asked dreamily, as he felt his head grow rather light with every drop of blood lost. Even when Wormtail was done collecting his blood, the red liquid continued to drizzle onto the ground, causing black spots to pop in Harry's vision.

"I think I may pass out." Harry murmured.

"Wormtail! Stem the brat's bleeding, I don't want him dead _yet_, you imbecile!" came the muffled cry from within the cauldron.

"Are you sure you aren't related to Professor Snape?" Harry asked concernedly, "That may explain the nargles."

Wormtail ignored him and stumbled to the cauldron, dropping the phial into the simmering liquid. It turned instantly a pure, blinding white. From inside the boiling cauldron, stepped a thin man, with skin the colour of a skull and wide, red eyes. He was tall, with a nose as flat and as slit as a snake's. He eluded an _atmosphere_, one that made Harry's skin crawl and the hairs on the back of his head stand on end, and he was fingering a long, knobbly wand with a sadistic grin.

"Oh my, what _have _the nargles done to you?"


	4. Flamboyant Harry

**A rather flamboyant Harry visits the graveyard and – darling? Voldemort ****_needs _****a makeover!**

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"Oh _no_." Harry wrinkled his nose and shook his head violently. "That robe is _not _good on your figure; you need something a little more… fitting."

"What are you talking about, Potter?" Voldemort flourished his wand dramatically, and Harry was_ very_ jealous of his flexibility.

"How _do_ you do that with your wrist? It's fabulous, darling!"

"I'm going to kill you, Potter!" The snake-faced man insisted.

"That is _so_ the last three years, sweetie. Try something new!"

"Bu-"

"You know what? I think you'd suit a light grey, maybe a little red thrown in there to accentuate your eyes." Harry tried to reach Voldemort to show him his colour chart, but then he realised that he was tied to the headstone. Harry looked down at the bonds with a sideways smirk towards the Dark Lord. "If I knew you were into this stuff…"

Voldemort nearly retched and vanished the ropes. "I hoped this was just a phase." He gestured to Harry's gelled-back hair and stylish pink scarf. "It's so demeaning to have a…" Voldemort looked physically disgusted by the word, "Fag for an enemy."

"That is _so_ prejudiced. We - the gay rights community – are getting more rights now, you know. It's legal in Sweden now for men marry. There's even talk in America of ending the so-called 'treatment' for homosexuality."

"What rubbish." Voldemort spat. "They should all be burned. Filthy mongrels, the lot of them."

"Says the wizard." Harry sassed, snapping his fingers in a 'z' formation. "Go and consult your _bible_ on that. Now, Petti, darling, your hair is _something_ else. I'm not even sure if it's a good something or a bad something, but a little conditioner and I'm certain it will be _fabulous_."

"Don't infect my followers with your _freakishness_, Potter."

"Don't infect_ my_ beautiful face with _your_ snakeishness." Harry crossed his arms huffily. "Now, if we're done here?" Harry turned on his heels and marched away, throwing his scarf dramatically over his shoulder.

"You won't be able to get past the anti-apparition wards!" Voldemort cried out.

"That's what _you_ think. _Never_ underestimate the gay." Harry winked mysteriously, and curled his fingers in a cheeky wave. "Bye snake boy!"

And then he disappeared with a flamboyant _d_e_mi-plié _and a spin.


	5. Female Harry

**Okay, before any o' y'all complain, I am a girl and a strong feminist. I am not bashing my fellow females out there, this is ****_not_**** a representation of every woman on this planet, but a mockery of the average fem!Harry TMR/HP story.**

**A female Harry Potter visits the graveyard and Voldemort is… flustered.**

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"P-potter." Voldemort stuttered. "I didn't expect you to be so…"

"Utterly gorgeous? I know. I have thick, wavy black/red hair, piercing green eyes and cheekbones to die for. My face is the picture of nobility and my body is out of this world. My perky boobs defy gravity, and my flawless complexion certainly doesn't follow the laws of female teenage hormones. I am perfect_,_ smart _and _powerful_,_ and completely contradict the years of abuse that I suffered at the hands of my relatives." Harriet pouted dramatically at the bamboozled Dark Lord, flipped her hair over her shoulder in a slow-motion sweep that any L'Oréal model would be envious of, and smirked at him.

"But I was going to kill you-"

Harry pressed a long, elegant finger to his lips. "Shh, don't talk. I'm going to fall in love with you, even though you murdered my parents, causing me 10 years of abuse and pain. The 50 year age difference between us is _insignificant_, even considering the fact that you're triple my age and I'm under the legal age of consent. _None _of it matters, because you're going to perform another ritual that gives you your pretty face back, and no one will give a damn _or_ remember you from a mere 50 years ago, not even the 40-odd students who went to school with you for seven years. Don't even bother changing your name or go to a minimal amount of effort to conceal your identity. Let's get together after three minutes, have sexy times and one of us will change the views that they've held for their entire life and become the Dark Lady/Minister of Magic, just because you or I pouted at either me or you with their 'smouldering red eyes'/'glowing emerald orbs'."

"But why would I-"

"You'll completely forget that you're physically unable to love because of your conception whilst your father was drugged by Love Potions, and fall head over heels in love with me. You'll completely alter your personality, wiping out the cold psychopath part and replacing it with a romantic and dedicated politician who just wants to make the world a better place. Your followers will be completely fine with it, except for Bellatrix who's a jealous cow. In fact, the Malfoys have been cautious of your behaviour ever since you 'turned evil' and now whole-heartedly support your new cause, forgetting the whole 'giving a deadly diary to a school girl thing'. Sirius will support my union with the Dark Lord, even though you're the embodiment of everything he's hated since he was a child, and we'll end our tale with a battle between one of us and Dumbledore, and a declaration of love."

"Wha'?" Lord Voldemort was completely bewildered by this apparent out-of-character behaviour of his. Nevertheless, Harriet grabbed his arm and spun on her heel, dragging him along with her.

"Now come on! I have a fortune/Ladyship to claim and Potter manor to refurbish!"

And then she broke through the anti-apparition wards, because that's just the BAMF female she is.


	6. Wrong Boy-Who-Lived Harry

**This is gonna be in a different format to my previous ones.**

**The Wrong-Boy-Who-Lived visits the graveyard and Voldemort is victorious..ish.**

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_"__Ah! The Boy-Who-Lived! Harry Potter, we meet at last."_

"What?"

_"__You, Harry Potter, are the Boy-Who-Lived. Those foolish beings thought it was your pathetic brother, but we knew better, didn't we?"_

"…What?"

_"__You mean… you didn't know?"_

"No. It's never really come up in conversation before."

_"__Oh. Well, this is awkward."_

"Sorry."

_"__No, don't worry. It's not your fault. You just can't get the people these days."_

"I imagine Deatheaters aren't the best spies. They haven't a bone of subtlety in their bodies."

_"__I know! And they call themselves Slytherins. It's disgraceful, really. The quality of cunning has really declined since my day."_

"Mmm."

_"__I see you're a Slytherin… got your… tie there. Nice, and green."_

"Yeah. My parents were pissed though."

_"__I imagine they were."_

"…"

_"__You really didn't know? About being the Boy-Who-Lived?"_

"Not a clue."

_"__Huh. And all the time I thought it was just an elaborate ploy…"_

"No. It was a complete surprise. Honestly."

_"__It really sucks to have an unprepared enemy. Takes all the fun out of it."_

"I really _am _sorry about that."

_"__Are you sure you don't have any lingering burning hatred towards me? Has our meeting sparked any flames of rage?"_

"Not really. You just seem kinda sad."

_"…__Too bad."_

"Look, I feel really bad. Are you sure it isn't my twin? It was probably quite dark, there could have been a mix-up, it's happened before."

_"__It was definitely you, glowing green eyes, silky black hair… I mean, your mother was right there!"_

"They've pretty much ignored me. It kinda blows, to be frank."

_"__They sound like dicks."_

"Yeah, they are."

_"__So… if you aren't going to fight me…?"_

"Sorry to disappoint, but I'm just not looking for a mortal enemy."

_"__Shame. Do you want to, I don't know, maybe… join my side?"_

"I wouldn't have to be a deatheater, would I? Because that's kinda a deal breaker."

_"__No. You can have a special mask and everything."_

"Cool… Do you think they'll be surprised?"

_"__I don't think so. If what you say is true, they've had it coming for a while now. It was inevitable, really."_

"So you don't think they'll feel betrayed? Not that I really care…"

_"__I'm sure it'll be fine. Come on then."_

"Where are we going?"

_"__I have a mansion."_

"Oh, okay."

**"****Master…"**

_"__Shove off Wormtail."_


	7. Lucky Harry

**A****_ very_**** lucky Harry Potter visits the graveyard and - dang it! - Percy Weasley was right all along.**

* * *

Harry Potter heard the words, "Kill the spare!" and like any sane human being, he stumbled back. Good fortune was something that Harry Potter had in abundance, so much so that he had been nicknamed 'Lucky' by half the school. (Yes, it was cheesy, but so were Dumbledore's robes, and nobody made a comment about those… out loud). Therefore, it came as no surprise that there was a loose rock right by his foot, which he stumbled over at just the right moment to push Cedric Diggory out of the way _and_ fall on top of the Triwizard Cup, which whisked him away from the scene, leaving two every shocked people (and a misshapen baby).

"Continue the ritual, Wormtail." Lord Voldemort demanded. Cedric Diggory blinked, and glanced around. What was going on? Was this the last trial? Had that been the _Killing Curse?_

"Bu m-master… Potter…"

"Use the boy!" Voldemort hissed, whitish pupils focusing on the bewildered Hufflepuff. If Cedric had been Harry Potter, he would have noticed the rather coincidental parellels between this scene and the one three years earlier, but he was not, and so he had no idea what the_ hell_ was going on. Was this a joke? Was he meant to be finding something? And did the fact that Harry was gone, mean that Potter had won? It wasn't fair! Gryffindor always won everything. Stupid lions and their stupid bravery…

Wormtail used the petulant Diggory's sulking against him, and dragged the boy toward a gravestone, shoving him against the slab half-heartedly. Grasping his wand with sweaty fingers, he tried to hide his rather embarrassing whispered incantation from the Hufflepuff. He never _had_ mastered silent casting, no matter how much Lily had tried to tutor him in the subject. Weak ropes appeared, and Wormtail prayed to Merlin that they would hold.

He dropped the small form of his master into the cauldron, and pointed his wand at the ground beneath the Hufflepuff's feet.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given. You will renew your son!" Pettigrew summoned the bone and his eyes widened with anticipation…

Nothing happened.

"M-master, it's not there!"

"You know, some graves were robbed for medical research." Cedric piped up helpfully. "Ha! I bet Potter didn't know _that_."

"Continue Wormtail! I'm sure it's not _that_ important." Voldemort hissed.

"Flesh — of the servant — w-willingly given — you will revive — your master." Wormtail sliced off his hand with a wince and squealed as it plopped into the simmering cauldron.

"B-blood of the enemy... forcibly taken... you will... resurrect your foe." The rodent of a man held a knife out in front of him with shaking hands as he approached the bound Hogwart's champion.

"If all it takes is blood to get out of here: have it!" Cedric insisted, offering his forearm to the rat animagus. A relieved smile broke across Wormtail's face and he made an incision much more confidently. As he collected the blood in the phial, Wormtail began to whistle cheerfully. Finally_ something_ was going right. He bustled over to the cauldron and tipped the red liquid in.

_Drip… drip… drip…_

_BOOM!_

The cauldron exploded in a fiery ball of flames, taking Peter Pettigrew out with it. The ropes holding Diggory evaporated and he crept cautiously towards the smoking pot. He peered over the rim and took in the scene before him: the bottom of the cauldron had burnt through and patches of blackened ground could be glimpsed through the hole.

"Someone should really write a legislation about that."


	8. Dark Harry

**A dark Harry visits the graveyard and - the wand fight? Well, you can interpret that how you want…**

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"Harry Potter, my greatest enemy… here to witness my victory." Voldemort gestured towards Harry and smiled at his Deatheaters, his teeth yellowed and eyes glowing red. Harry straightened up and quirked a dark smirk at him. "Oh, I think not." He replied, his voice as low and velvety as Tom Riddle's had been at 16.

"Potter… are you… possessed?" Voldemort asked hesitantly, his evil grin slipping a little.

"No, it's just such a relief to get rid of that mundane mask." He sighed, his suddenly-gothic hair falling into his eyes. He flicked it out of his eyes and the ropes binding him to the stone evaporated into dark shadows.

"But that's impossible!" Voldemort declared dramatically. "I had my most loyal servant craft those ropes!"

"Loyalty doesn't always equal magical power!" Harry reminded him mockingly. "Anyway, I bet my servant's more loyal than yours."

"Who?" The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Draco Malfoy." Harry replied smugly.

"Damn it!" Voldemort stomped his foot and growled. "I thought I had the whole set!"

"Nope. _And_ he's in love with me." Harry crossed his arms and nodded triumphantly.

Voldemort scanned the area desperately, before focusing on an uncomfortably shifting Deatheater. "Lucius."

"Y-yes, my lord?"

"Kiss me."

"W-what, my lord!?" The normally oily drawl of Lucius Malfoy came out as more of a panicked squeak.

"Kiss me! If your son can kiss a blood traitor _and_ my worst enemy, you can certainly give your lord and master a peck on the lips!" Voldemort demanded impatiently. "Or do you want to be crucioed?"

Harry snorted. "Classy."

"At least I don't have to imperius him!" The Dark lord sneered.

"Oh no. No imperiusing here! Just beauty, manipulation and a whole lot of elbow grease." Harry shrugged and inspected his nails.

Lucius Malfoy removed his mask with shaking hands, and straightened his robes. The usual Malfoy grace was absent as he stumbled his way over to his master, mumbling things like, "_Stupid son - going to _kill_ him!" _Quickly, Lucius darted up and placed a butterfly kiss on Voldemort's dry lips, gulping at the furious glare he received.

"I got the better Malfoy!" Harry sang insultingly. Bristling at the implied slander, Malfoy grasped Voldemort by the neck of his robes and snogged the life out of him. Then he squeaked and hurried back to his place, fixing the mask on hurriedly.

"Well, I wouldn't boast about _that_." Harry murmured derisively, his casual elegance irritating the Dark lord more than he could say.

"_I_ have the Malfoy fortune." Voldemort sniffed.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Lord Malfoy dropped dead.

"Now you don't." Harry stuck out his tongue.

"I fooled the whole of Hogwarts!"

"_I_ fooled Albus Dumbledore!"

"I discovered the Chamber of Secrets!"

"_I_ located the Philosopher's Stone!"

"I grew up in an Orphanage!"

"_I_ grew up with my abusive muggle family!"

"I'm a charming sociopath!"

"_I_'m a charming psychopath!"

"I hate muggles!"

"_I_ hate everyone!"

The two of them broke off, panting heavily. With blazing eyes, they scowled and said in unison; "There's only one way to solve this."

They both reached for their wands.


	9. Marauder Harry

**A Marauder Harry visits the graveyard and Voldemort is Samara.**

* * *

Harry stumbled as he landed in the graveyard, still crowing to the absent Cedric Diggory. "Ha! Take that you stupid Hufflepuff! I got here before yo-" He paused and looked around, his surroundings finally registering. "Well this is cool."

Harry spotted a man clutching a bundle approach him, looming menacingly out of the fog.

"Hello?" He called out. "Look, that creepy fog thing you've got going on is _really_ awesome, believe me, and I'd _totally_ like to swap notes some time, but could you tell me where I am?"

"Your doom!" Came the squealed reply from the rags.

Harry laughed, because that high-pitched voice was _really_ funny. "Did someone kick you in the balls? Was it me? Do you even _have_ balls, or are you just fabric?"

The cloth creature _and_ the man ignored Harry, and continued his advance. "Wormtail, prepare the-"

"_Wormtail_?" Harry interrupted incredulously. "_The_ Womtail? Member of the _Marauders_; most awesome pranking group of all time?"

"Well, yes-" The man began to speak, but was cut off by Harry falling to his knees in reverent worship. "Oh Merlin! I built a shrine to you guys in my second year! Well, mostly you. I mean, the others sound kinda stuck-up to be honest; 'Prongs', 'Padfoot', 'Moony' but _Wormtail_? Just the right amount of sneakiness needed for a pranking master!"

By now, Wormtail was beginning to preen. "It's true. No one appreciates the amount of slyness needed to pull off the perfect pranks. A rat is supreme at finding ways into Slytherin dungeons."

"I love you." Harry declared, stars in his eyes. "Would you like a custard cream? It's my last one, but to have _the_ Wormtail eat it… it would be an honour." There were actual tears prickling at the corner of his eyes.

"Don't mind if I d-" Wormtail squeaked as he began to sprout feathers, his face narrowed and his arms transformed into wings. Harry smirked and ran his hand through his fringe. "Rats _suck_." He told the squawking bird smugly. Then he got out a mirror and spoke into the surface, pausing only for a moment to check his reflection. "Sirius Black. Hey, Siri. Yeah, I got kidnapped by Pettigrew."

_"__How is he?"_ Sirius asked eagerly through the frame.

"A canary." Harry said nonchalantly.

_"__That's my cub!"_

"Yeah, the only thing is, now there's this weird baby thing crawling across the floor towards me. It reminds me a bit of the scene from that horror movie you let me watch-"

"_Mr Potter!"_

"Oh, is Minnie there? I meant that horror movie you _didn't_ let me watch."

_"__In all my years… most irresponsible…!"_

_"__Busted."_ Harry and Sirius sighed.


	10. Squib Harry

**Harry has a foul mouth and Voldemort doesn't stand a chance.**

* * *

"It's those bloody wizards again, Marv! I swear, one day I'll-" Harry stopped his shouting as he landed in a murky graveyard filled with mist. He sighed and took a GPS out of his camouflage backpack. He tapped it impatiently. It beeped and he squinted, trying to read in the terrible lighting. "Little Hangleton…" He looked around dubiously. "What a dump."

"Harry Potter, the filthy squib." A figure stumbled out of the thick fog, a crow squawking in the distance.

"Very Hitchcock…" Harry commented, inconspicuously checking the gun on his belt. Taking him by surprise, the figure advanced and slammed Harry into the stone behind him, causing Harry to cry out as his head slammed into the rock. His vision began to spin, and Harry suspected he had concussion. He punched his attacker in the face, causing the figure to reel back clutching their nose. Harry tried to right himself, but his head swam and his stomach churned. Harry groaned, massaging his temple as he leaned forwards and gagged. His attacker righted himself again, and Harry felt thick ropes wrap around his torso.

While the man was preoccupied with mumbling mumbo jumbo, Harry slipped his hand into his trouser pocket, drawing out a knife. He sawed through the ropes, noticing that they weren't quite as thick as normal bindings. Probably something to do with magic. "Bloody magic." Harry mumbled.

Harry finally got loose, and whilst the insane man was dropping his hand into the cauldron – _his hand!_ – Harry took out his gun. Cocking and priming it – "Bloody insane, the lot of them" – he fired. His aim was true and the shot went straight through the back of the attacker's head, who immediately fell to the floor. He approached cautiously, kicking the corpse on the floor onto its back. Then he went over to the cauldron and fired a couple of rounds in, just to make sure.

He stomped out of the gates, muttering, "Bloody wizards, can't fight their own wars. 'Go to your relatives, Harry, they'll be more understanding of your 'condition'.' Why is it a condition? I'm a Squib! You can say the bloody word. I'm not even sure how I ended up in the Army, with a _gun _no less. I'm 14 bloody years old. The whole world's gone mad…

"…Now where's the bloody bus!?"


	11. Blind Harry

**Blind Harry is… well, blind and Voldemort is disappointed.**

* * *

"What do you think of my new face, Potter?" Voldemort preened, straightening his robes and running a finger along his wand threateningly.

"Um… I can't see." Harry shrugged helplessly.

"WHAT!" Voldemort looked panicked.

"I _am_ blind, you know." Harry reminded him.

"But… But… how will you make fun of my appearance?" Voldemort exclaimed.

"Why would I want to do that?" Harry asked with a frown. "It sounds kinda mean."

"That's the whole point – a few underhanded comments about your enemy's looks make duels all the more interesting. A few 'snake-faces'…" Voldemort trailed off and groaned at Harry's blank face. "It's for the whole 'fighting your mortal enemy' thing."

"Shouldn't I be insulting your personality or morals or something?" Harry wondered. Voldemort sighed and with a wave of his wand, the ropes disintegrated. Harry bent down and picked up his wand.

"See! Right there! No fumbling around – you just picked that thing straight up! How do you do that if you're blind?" Voldemort gestured wildly. Harry furrowed his brow and shrugged, "Just a 'magical sensing' thing, I guess."

"Well then you're not blind!" Voldemort shouted exasperatedly. He rubbed his temples and looked at Harry. "Just so we're clear, you won't be making any remarks about my lack of a nose?"

Harry shook his head.

"Right, I'll be holding auditions for a new enemy on Tuesday. Don't show up." Voldemort told him pointedly, writing it down on a conjured piece of parchment. Harry looked taken-back. "Hang on, you 'snaky person', you."

"Rubbish." Voldemort told him frankly. "Now go away."


	12. Seer Harry

**An all seeing Harry Potter visits the graveyard and Voldemort is****_ freaked_**** out.**

* * *

Harry Potter landed in the graveyard. With cheerful precision he pushed Cedric Diggory out of the way of the green light heading towards him and skipped over to the cloaked man. "Hey Wormy!" he greeted with a grin. Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a phial of blood. He put it in Wormtail's stunned hand and closed the fingers around it. "That's a quarter of a pint of Albus Dumbledore's blood, unwillingly given." Then he pulled the bone white wand out of Wormtail's hand, held it up to his own and said, "Expelliarmus."

A gold glow immediately surrounded the close wands and Harry broke the connection after a few minutes. He handed the wand back to Pettigrew. Then he strolled over to Cedric Diggory, grasped his hand and touched the handle of the Triwizard Cup. "See you in the Ministry!" He called as the pair of them disappeared. "I'm off to see Barty!"

...

"Wormtail, explain to me what just happened."

"I'm not sure, my lord."


	13. Sherlock Harry

**Harry is a high-functioning sociopath, not a psychopath! Honestly, Riddle, get it right!**

* * *

Harry looked around the graveyard with detached interest. "Little Hangleton." He declared, brushing some non-existent lint off his shoulder. Wormtail peeked his head around the gravestone he was hiding behind, in shock. "What? How did you know that?"

"Well, you just confirmed it, you idiot." Harry said scathingly.

"B-but, before that-"

"Yes, I know." Harry rolled his eyes and began pacing. "Behind me, I see a gravestone marked 'Tom Riddle'. Tom, a rather common name-" there was a muffled hiss from a bundle of rags in Wormtail's arms which Harry ignored "-But 'Riddle'? Now we're getting somewhere. The dates are too worn away to see clearly, but for the marble to be as new as it is, this man must have died around 40 to 50 years ago. There have been only six Tom Riddles to die in the last 50 years. This is a large, high status headstone, meaning he must have been at least _close_ to nobility. That narrows it down to only two people.

"The ground is wet, suggested strong rain in the last 6 hours. There's only been weather like that in the _north_ of England recently, meaning that this man must have been the Tom Riddle of Little Hangleton, son of Thomas and Mary Riddle who were rather famously murdered in 1943. It's highly likely that this man was buried just outside his grounds and that theory is confirmed by the vast estate over there which I am certain belonged to the Riddles. That means this is the Little Hangleton graveyard." Harry finished triumphantly.

"Amazing-"

"Yes, Pettigrew, I know."

"How did you-?"

"Know it was you? It's rather simple really; your gait, height, shoe size and voice give it all away. It's a rather distinctive squeak, isn't it? I assume that the thing in your arms is Lord Voldemort, or rather: Tom Riddle?"

"H-"

"Your personality ensures that you need to follow to feel safe. When you were threatened last year, it's clear that you would run to the only figure you felt strong enough to protect you: your former master, the Dark Lord. His name is Tom Riddle, because he earlier showed a reaction of disgust towards the name and how ordinary it was, partly explaining your name change. Also, why else would I have landed here, right in front of this grave? Bringing your arch-nemesis here suggests a close emotional attachment, most likely hatred.

"The area around the grave is well trodden, but the stone is dirty. You're a wizard, if he cared for these people why would he not have you clean the stone? There are also scorch marks, likely from spells. He's attacked it then, he's angry. And given the fact that he's a murderous psychopath, he likely had a hand in their murder. However, when these people were killed, it was _just them_ and no one else in the village. This wasn't just a normal muggle attack then, he had a person vendetta against these people, but why would an evil Dark Lord ever have contact with some average muggles in the north of England? The fact that he changed his name suggests a need to get away from his past, his roots. They were his family then, making him Tom Riddle. The fact that Tom Riddle wasn't in any of the police records shows that he wasn't legitimate. The youngest child was exactly the right age to have a child with some village girl and then deny any connections or drive her away. He was angry, and that is why he killed them! Or at least, had Morfin Gaunt do it."

"Astounding-" Wormtail said in awe.

"It's also an anagram, bit obvious, but I can work with it."

"Incredi-"

"He also... told me. In my second year."

"What?" The high peeled screech made Harry grit his teeth in annoyance. "We had a confrontation. Of course, I deduced that in order for the Basilisk to be defeated, I needed to take away its main weapons - the eyes - with a quick blasting hex and then cast incendio down its throat in order to bypass the impervious skin."

"How did this-"

"Boring! How long have you been living in the Riddle House? Oh, sorry, that was a stupid question. Frank Bryce disappeared in August, and how much longer could you have been staying in the house without the caretaker noticing? A maximum of two weeks, I'll wager, making your stay around 13 months." Harry deduced with a smug grin. "Now, drop the Dark Lord." He told Wormtail.

"What-"

"Do it!" Harry commanded and Wormtail flinched like he'd been burnt. As soon as Voldemort hit the ground, a blast of green light erupted out of Harry's wand, hitting Voldemort square on. Wormtail watched in amazement as the unaffected Potter just watched indifferently and spun around, heading towards the Triwizard Cup.

"The name's Harry Potter." He called over his shoulder. "And the address is number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

"But I betrayed your parents-"

"Don't care – boring!" He dismissed and levitated the fallen Portkey. "Do you mind the cello?"

"No."

Wormtail could only watch as Harry grasped hold of the trophy and quirked him a smile, "I'm sure we'll get along marvellously."


	14. Slytherin Harry

**Ravenclaw Harry is actually a Slytherin and Wormtail doesn't know his colours.**

* * *

Harry glanced at the dead body lying on the floor next to him with some regret. This death could have been avoided. He made a mental note to avenge the fallen Cedric Diggory if he had the chance and it came at no personal risk. Harry passively let himself be lead to the headstone and bound to it, although he tensed his muscles as much as he could to allow for more slack later on. When the man's face came into the light, revealing himself as Peter Pettigrew, Harry grimly reminded himself to kill the man at the earliest opportunity. He watched with cold interest as Wormtail levitated a white powder, which Harry assumed to be bone, into the cauldron and then sliced off one of his hands. Harry took savage pleasure in his scream of pain. When Wormtail approached Harry, brandishing a knife and foolishly recited the next line of the chant, Harry silently gave him permission to take his blood, making a small movement to offer his forearm. He hoped to Merlin that Wormtail did not notice his ploy. When the rodent-faced man didn't notice Harry's cunning plan, he found it hard to believe _anyone_ could be that stupid. Sending a silent prayer to Odin, Harry took his opening. "It's anticlockwise. You have to stir it anticlockwise."

Wormtail looked at him in confusion.

"That's the other way," Harry said helpfully.

"I know that!" Wormtail blustered; a hilarious sight in his squeaky outrage. "But why would _you_ be helping _me_?" He asked suspiciously.

"Because I'm a Ravenclaw," Harry rolled his eyes sarcastically, "That's what we _do_. We go around correcting people that don't want to be corrected and generally just making stuck-up nuisances of ourselves. Just thought I'd continue the tradition."

"Oh, okay," Pettigrew said cheerfully and started moving the ladle in the opposite direction. Harry watched in anticipation as it made its second turn, third turn, forth turn…

_Boom!_

Harry smirked as the cauldron exploded in a ball of searing flames and Wormtail screeched with pain as he was set on fire.

"It doesn't even need to be stirred, idiot." Harry told the burning man scornfully. "And I'm a _Slytherin._ There's a reason I'm dressed in green." Harry sighed as Pettigrew fell to the floor, twitching pathetically.

"Well now I'm going to have to get out of these ropes myself." He told an amused Nagini in irritation. He looked mournfully at his wand; lying just a few metres away. "And it looks like I'll be doing it the muggle way."


	15. Done Harry

**Harry has had enough and Voldemort just wants a hug.**

"No. Just no. I am so done." Harry Potter shook his head emphatically.

"What do you mean?" Voldemort asked, stopping his dramatic feeling of his body, which was making the whole situation a whole lot more creepy.

"Look, I'll hand in my resignation. I'll go to America. I'll even write a letter to the Daily Prophet! Just leave me alone."

"Why are you giving up now?" Voldemort asked, pouting.

"Have you _seen _you? You're all… snaky and… red-glowy-eyed," Harry gestured wildly, "And I'm fourteen years old. I could barely defeat you as a leech on the back of some weaklings head, and beating you when you were a phantom diary thing very nearly got me killed. So: _no_, just no."

"But you'll have the whole Wizarding World on your side." Voldemort said desperately. His arch-nemesis couldn't give up _now_, just when he was reborn. This was where it all got fun!

"Like hell! Have you _seen _the press I've been getting! And the wizarding world's just been lapping it up! There's no way the Ministry will want to deal with the outbreak this will cause, and seeing as I've already got a reputation as an insane, adrenaline junkie, attention seeker… sorry, but I'm just so out of here."

"But-"

"Look, I'll stay out of your way. I won't rally any forces against you, I'll just go away quietly, and you'll be free to do your whole 'taking over Britain' thing. We can even exchange letters and be friends! We might even fall in love."

"I _have_ always wanted a friend…" Voldemort considered, and Harry nodded encouragingly. "Ok, fine." The Dark Lord agreed huffily. "But I get to kill Dumbledore."

"Fine by me. Just try and not torture/maim/kill my besties will you? I'm quite fond of them, even though I'm abandoning them to flee to safety."

"Alright then." Voldemort consented reluctantly, but broke out into a smile. "Let's have a hug."

The two of them embraced and Harry made his way over to the cup. Before he picked it up, Voldemort called out, "Oh, and call me Tom Riddle!"

Harry saluted. "Well, I'm off to Gringotts to find one of the numerous Potter properties, grab a passport and jump on a plane. Wish me luck!"

"Good luck!" Voldemort waved.


	16. Severitus Harry

**Voldemort can't be dealing with five year olds, and is Severus Harry's father or his lover?**

* * *

As soon as Harry saw Voldemort, he burst into tears. "Wah wah wah! Scary snake face man!"

"What? Stop crying!" Voldemort demanded, but only made Harry cry more. "Want Pwofessor Sevy!"

"Why do you have the mental age of a five year old?" Voldemort asked impatiently.

"My uncwle and aunt hit me so I wan away and met the Pwofessor!" Harry said giggling.

"Why does that mean you have mental deficiencies?" Voldemort spat, and groaned when Harry started heaving more great gulping sobs. "Stop crying. It's not adorable. You're fourteen years old, act like it."

"Now I'll be spanked by Pwofessor 'cause I cwied like a baby!"

"Aww." Wormatil cooed.

"That's not cute. Why is that cute? That's abuse! Since when has abuse been cute?" Voldemort looked around wildly in confusion. Harry was still wailing and the Dark Lord gritted his teeth in frustration. "Do you know what? I'll fight Dumbledore instead. A senile old man is better than a whining man-child any day. Wormtail, take this brat back to Severus and tell him if he ever brings him within thirty feet of me again, I'll crucio him so hard his brain will turn to mush. I don't even care why he took in my mortal enemy and raised him like his own, I just want him out of my vicinity. Permanently."

Wormtail took the dribbling Boy Saviour to the portkey and wrapped his finger around it. Harry appeared in front of the maze, immediately standing up and dusting his robes off. Professor Snape ran down the stands, his robes flying out dramatically behind him and his hair flowing over his shoulders like silk. His nose was not large, but distinguished, and his eyes held so much light and warmth that they might as well have been fireworks.

"My love!" Harry cried, enfolding his lover in a hug. "He fell for it."

"Oh, you're wonderful. And just like Lily, your mother whom I loved with all my heart!" Severus cried, looking deep into the eyes that once belonged to the woman he loved, on the face of the man he hated.

"That's not creepy at all!" Harry sighed, and pulled his boyfriend into a searing kiss.

"Paedophile!" Ron shouted, pointing at the two in disgust. Hermione hit Ron on the back of the head. "Don't be small-minded Ronald. It's not paedophilia if they're both in love!"

"Of course. How silly of me."

Dumbledore gazed fondly at the two of them. "As the Headmaster of this establishment, I really should be discouraging improper conduct between students and teacher. But I don't really care because, ah, love. A magic more powerful than anything we teach here."

"Severus, I'm pregnant!" Harry declared. Severus looked at his tiny love in adoring befuddlement. "But how did you get a uterus?"

"Does it matter?" Harry asked with a laugh.

"I suppose not. We shall name it Septimus." Snape decided, giving Harry yet another spine-tingling kiss. "… You know, if I hadn't said one word twenty years ago, you'd be my son."

"How romantic." Harry breathed.

"We were just meant to be." Severus agreed.


	17. Pervert Harry

**THIS HAS A HIGHER RATING THAN THE REST! FEEL FREE TO SKIP THIS ONE! BE WARNED ALL YE WHO ENTER… OR READ?**

**I considered asking you guys about the creepiness of the last chapter. I thought I should ask your opinion on: 'was it ****_too_**** creepy? Have I finally gone too far?' **

**And then I thought: damn it all, and wrote this.**

* * *

**Harry has a dirty mind and Voldemort reflects glumly on society today.**

* * *

Harry gazed at Lord Voldemort's snake-like form and sighed glumly. "And you were so _hot_ in the diary." He whined.

"My Lord… my Lord… you promised… you did promise… oh _please_!" Wormtail begged.

"I could think of one other situation where those sounds would be appropriate. Anyone with me?" Harry asked (not so) innocently, glancing around as if he half-expected some pervert to pop up from behind a gravestone and yell 'I do!'

"Quiet Potter, you're fourteen years old for Merlin's sake."

"Didn't stop Sirius." Wormtail muttered mutinously.

"What was that?" Voldemort said sharply, and Wormtail squeaked, "Nothing master!"

Harry ignored the Dark lord's self-pitying (kind of inspiring) monologue about how he rose from the ashes of his father's grave and achieved his dreams or something. Harry thought it would make a great musical. He started paying close attention when Death Eaters began apparating in and immediately crawled towards Voldemort, kissing the hem of his black robes.

"_This_ looks like the start of an orgy." Harry commented, looking at the masked faces curiously. "All we need now is music and Rohypnol."

"Shut up Potter." Voldemort snapped. "Welcome loyal Death Eaters…"

Harry tried to peer under the masks on the Dark Lord's followers and guess their identities. There was a busty one and – did that one have a _cane_? Well, each to their own, he supposed.

When Voldemort began to crucio one of his followers, Harry watched with a slight frown. "Is this your kink or something? Because this guy doesn't look too consensual. There are clubs for this."

"I am glad to be punished by the master!" The trembling servant exclaimed in outrage, glared at Harry through his eyeholes. "It is the greatest honour the Dark Lord can bestow upon his lowly followers."

"Fine, fine. They're your rights."

Whilst that exchange took place, Voldemort had conjured a silver hand for Wormtail, who was now flexing it with an expression of the utmost delight.

"I wonder what _that's_ going to be used for." Harry said, an eyebrow raised knowingly.

"Urghh!" Voldemort turned to one of his followers with a scowl. "This would never have happened in my day. Kids were _kids_ back then. Where has childhood gone?"

"I don't know my Lord."

"Damn right you don't."


	18. Mad Scientist Harry

**Harry sees an opportunity and Wormtail takes it.**

* * *

Harry dropped a leaf that he'd plucked from a tree into the cauldron. The liquid immediately turned a vibrant purple and the shrivelled form of Lord Voldemort floated to the top. Harry poked it suspiciously, but relaxed when it simply bobbed below the surface a bit. "Like a rotten egg." Harry remarked, pushing it down again. "Actually that's quite fascinating." He raised an eyebrow and repeated the poke. "Was there some kind of chemical reaction that created sulphur? Have I discovered a new potion reaction? I must study this further."

Harry shrunk his enemy's corpse with a nifty nonverbal spell and levitated him into a conjured container. He looked at the box with a fuddled brow and narrowed his eyes. Then he shrugged and stuck it under his armpit.

"That'll start to smell a bit…" Wormtail crept out from behind a gravestone.

"How do _you_ know?" Harry asked, pointing his wand at him.

"Your parent's dead bodies began to stink after a few hours. I, um, leant over them. Laughing maniacally." Wormtail shrugged sheepishly.

"I thought you confronted Sirius Black then?"

"Apparition. I'm not completely useless."

"It appears I underestimated you." Harry raised an eyebrow. "I am in need of a research assistant. I am willing to provide accommodation and food."

"Accommodation - _where_ exactly? You're fourteen years old."

"I have a trunk. It's rather large." Harry quirked an eyebrow. "Well? How about it? I promise I won't experiment on you… too much."

"It's better than living life as a rat." Wormtail sighed and follow the insane genius. "So, how did you escape the ropes?"

"Acid."

"Ah. Do I get paid?"

"Don't push your luck."


	19. Smart Harry

**Harry uses his brain for once, and Wormtail has cats. Or does he?**

* * *

Harry looked around him. Creepy, smoke-filled graveyard? Check. Chilling, mysterious tingling on the back of his neck? Check. Really bad feeling about this? Check.

"My multiple close shaves with death have taught me that in situations like these, you don't stick around." He told a befuddled Cedric Diggory. "Take my arm." Harry put out his elbow and the Hufflepuff linked his arm with his.

"Dobby!" Harry called. With a _crack!_ the House-elf appeared. Dobby looked up with round, wide eyes. "What can Dobby be doing for the great Mr Harry Potter sir?"

"Um, can you take me back to Hogwarts?" Harry asked him.

"Oh yes Mr Harry Potter sir, Dobby can be doing that!" Dobby told him happily, his ears flopping as he nodded enthusiastically.

"Great." Harry grinned. "On second thoughts, can you take me straight to the kitchen. I'm starving."

"Indeed I cans!" The House-elf confirmed joyfully, and grasped Harry's waist.

"Perfect. Your treacle tart is really-"

_Crack!_

"Ah ha! Harry Potter, we meet agai-" Voldemort's gloated was cut off as he peered through the gap in the blankets and spotted the empty graveyard. "Where is he?"

"I don't know master-"

"Well of course you don't, you imbecile!" Voldemort shrieked. "Did the portkey even work?"

"Well, the cup is over there." Wormtail pointed at the abandoned Triwizard trophy lying in the grass.

"They can't have used that, so then _where _is my enemy?" Voldemort hissed.

"Maybe he's hiding – behind a gravestone perhaps, or perchance he's invisible!" Wormtail started wildly swinging his arms around himself, dropping the Dark Lord onto the ground.

"Ouch!" He whined. "Wormtail, you moron, come back!" But his servant was already gone, stumbling across the grounds calling, "Here Potty, Potty!"

"He's my arch nemesis, not a cat." Voldemort pouted.

"Or maybe he is! Maybe that's how he escaped. Hang on, I think I have some cat food somewhere around here," Wormtail started patting his pockets.

"Why do you have- do you know what? I don't even want to know. I get the worst luck. And the worst servants."

"I found it! It's a little off, but I'm sure it'll still-"

"ARGHHH!"


	20. Homeless Harry

**Harry just came for the food and Voldemort runs a street gang.**

* * *

_"__Harry Potter, my greatest enemy. We meet at last."_

"Um, hi. Look, those Hogwarts people only found me on the streets a few weeks ago, so I'm kinda new to this whole 'magic' thing. Am I supposed to fight you or something?"

_"__Why would they want a schoolboy who's only been learning magic for a matter of days to fight the greatest Dark Lord of all time?"_

"I dunno, I just kinda went with it. I came for the food, really."

_"But weren't you being trained somewhere secretly?"_

"Why would you think that?"

_"There were… rumours, and the Daily Prophet ran a few articles speculating."_

"No, I was homeless, man. I was living on the streets."

_"Why on earth would the Boy Who Lived be without a place to go?"_

"Er, my muggle relative were abusive. I ran away when I was 7 - 8?"

_"Wow, that's… rubbish, really."_

"Tell me about it."

_"Why are you helping the man that sent you to live with them?"_

"D'you know what? I'm not really sure."

_"Are you… bitter, by any chance?"_

"…Little bit."

_"Okay, I don't offer this to everyone, but I've got this set up for people who want vengeance on muggles. You get food, lodging, clothes… it's a pretty sweet deal."_

"Eh, I would, but for some reason, there's this guy with greasy black hair that I trust. He looks at me with utter loathing, but here's just something about the blatant hatred in his eyes that just appeals to an abused kid."

_"What's his name?"_

"I can't quite remember… Snap?... Snoop?... Snipe?..."

_"Snape?"_

"Yeah, that's the one!"

_"Why, he's on my side!"_

"Really? He never mentioned it."

_"He's a spy. It's sort of in his job description to be discrete."_

"Oh, cool. That's good, then. This… group of yours, is it a bit like a street gang?"

_"I guess."_

"Awesome. I was in one of those too, you know."

_"That's nice."_

"Not really."

_"Oh."_


	21. Dumbledore Harry

**Thank you everyone for your amazing reviews! They seriously make my day so much brighter. If anyone has any ideas for possible Harrys I could do in the future, that would be most appreciated!**

* * *

**Harry doesn't have a fashion sense and Voldemort's eyes can't take anymore.**

* * *

"Ah, Tom. Such a sorry path you have chosen to travel down, but remember; to be pointed in the right direction, one only needs to believe in oneself. Only then can you truly understand the consequences of your actions and begin to make amends." Harry said with a knowing twinkle in his bright green eyes.

"…That literally made no sense. It just sound like a lot of wise-sounding words strung together and designed to make me feel guilty." Voldemort crossed his arms suspiciously.

"I speak only the truth. You can still make things right. You just need to give a little love, and it all comes back to you. You know you're going to be remembered, for the things that you say and do."

"That was surprisingly lyrical, and altogether useless." Voldemort remarked.

"Thank you, my boy."

"I'm 40 years older than you. In what alternate reality am I 'your boy'?"

"If you wished me to stop, you need only have asked." Harry paused. "Oh, Tom. What _have_ you done to yourself?" Harry asked sorrowfully whilst regaling Voldemort's new body.

"What have _you_ done to yourself?" The Dark Lord retorted, eying Harry's toxic green and burgundy robes.

"Do you like them?" Harry asked gleefully, spinning around with his arms raised. "Albus helped me pick them out."

"Well, this explains everything." Voldemort muttered, eyeing Harry wearily. "The old codger's got to you. Brainwashed you, most likely."

"Tom, you shouldn't accuse people like that. Albus has merely enlightened me on the beauty of bold fashion statements and wisdom, as it is now my job to do for you. Lemon sherbet?" Harry offered, producing the paper bag from nowhere. Voldemort gestured for Harry to take them back and pinched the bridge of his nose. Harry shrugged and took a sweet out. He unwrapped it, popped it in his mouth and smacked his lips loudly in appreciation.

"I was hoping for an enemy who wasn't a senile old goat with false delusions of grandeur…" Voldemort sighed, working his jaw in consideration, "But I suppose you'll have to do."

Right at that moment, Harry popped out of foldable pointy hat and pulled it firmly onto his head. That was; a foldable _pink and sparkly_ pointy hat.

"No, I can't do it." Voldemort decided grimly. "Avada Kedavra!"


	22. Playboy Harry

**Thanks to all for their reviews and ideas. Keep 'em comin'!**

**Harry has a private army and Wormtail is the target.**

* * *

"Woah, _this_ needs refurbishment." Harry remarked, ruffling a hand through his hair. "Like seriously. A few clean-ups, nice weather, this place could be okay. Not a nice as my beach house in Hawaii, but still."

"You have a beach house in… Hawaii?" Wormtail asked curiously.

"Yeah, it's not as nice as my place in Florida – now _that_ place is huge. My place in Hawaii only has 11 bedrooms – I know! 11! The girls were _so_ disappointed, but I showed them the Jacuzzi and they were… very happy."

"_Girls?_" Wormtail asked in disbelief.

"Yep. My dashing good looks and magnetising charm just draws them in."

"Exactly like James." Wormtail muttered.

"Thanks." Harry replied, flashing him a glowing smile.

"I hated the bastard. I betrayed him to the Dark Lord. Always lording his fame and money over the rest of us mere mortals."

"…That pretty much described me in a sentence. I'm actually quite impressed. Ah well then, you can team up with Rite Skeeter and give me a bad review."

"A bad review..."

"In the Daily Prophet? I bought them out recently, but before that they were giving me _really _bad press. Too bad they came across the Potter lawyers." Harry checked his rolex watch and sighed. "Listen, nothing personal (well, it kind of is, you're a bit of a dick), but I've been forced to, well, call the fangirls. On you. And Voldemort. Sorry."

"What? Fangirls?" Wormtail asked in confusion, glancing around him nervously.

All of a sudden, there was a roar. Then a rumble. Then a scream.

The ground began to shake, and Wormtail stumbled as he tried to steady himself. He blinked into the bright light on the horizon as a huge group of girls streamed over the hill. The wave of bikini models, minor actresses and gold-diggers came in a wave, trampling everything in their destructive path as they screamed "HARRY!"

Harry stood up with a wide grin and open arms, "Here I am, ladies!" He pointing over his shoulder with his thumb towards Pettigrew. "First one to kill this guy gets a visit to my private estate in BRAZIL!"

They seemed to speed into a blur, heading straight for the trembling rodent.

"Well I gotta pop off. I've got a business meeting in 5. See ya!" He waved cheerfully at Wormtail, and then saluted to the approaching females. "I'll forward the tickets in the mail!"


	23. PMSing Harry

**If you're a guy, and periods make you go: OMG! NO! JUST NO! STAY AWAY DEMON! Then this chapter isn't for you. Also, grow up.**

**I ****_am_**** a girl! I know that this is ****_no_****t what we're like every single month (as boys seem to think. SO… FREAKIN'… ANNOYING.) But it's not just an exaggeration, either. I'll have a couple of days where I'll see a kitten and just ****_cry_****. It sucks. It just sucks.**

* * *

**Harry is on her period, and the whole bloody Wizarding World are sexist pigs.**

* * *

"Urghhh!" Harriet screeched, kicking the gravestone nearest to her. She winced and hopped on one foot, rubbing it tenderly. "This freaking blows." Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared down at her injured toes sorrowfully. "And now my foot hurts." Her bottom lip trembled and she sat down on the ground heavily. She scrambled to her feet almost immediately. "It's wet." She spat angrily, glaring at the dew-covered grass accusingly. She limped over to a bench and sat down on it, but sprang to her feet yet again. "That's wet too." She hissed, patting her damp behind. "Is there nowhere in this infernal graveyard that isn't bloody wet!?"

A minute passed. Harriet looked down at the wet patch on her jeans in growing horror. "_Was_ that water?" She peered over her shoulder awkwardly, sighing in relief when she noticed that the dampness was most certainly _no_t red. "Oh, thank god."

"Um… hello?" A man timidly called out as he crept out from goodness knows where.

"_You._" Harriet rounded on him. "Did _you _bring me here!"

"Well, yes…"

_Smack!_

"How _dare_ you!" Harriet marched closer, poking her finger into his chest. "I ache and hurt and I was _almost_ about to go home, lie in my nice warm bed with my nice warm hot water bottle, when _you_ come and kidnap me and take me to the _godforsaken_ place filled with damp, and spiders a-a-and-" her eyes filled with tears, and she started bawling. "I j-just w-want to go home! I have cramps and I forgot my Ibuprofen-"

"W-what's 'Ibrofed'?" Wormtail asked cautiously, as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer or not.

"_Ibuprofen_ is a painkiller! A muggle one! For period pains!" Harriet's eyes narrowed. "You '_wizards'_ are the biggest bunch of sexist pigs I have _ever_ met in my _entire_ life! Did you know, there's not one single _convenient_ potion designed for witches on their monthly? Not _one_! I have to bring boxes and _boxes_ of painkillers with me every year, because you wizards can't get your heads out of your _arses_ and realise that we _women_ have to deal with things! And they're not taboo! You're all trapped in the freaking dark ages! Professor Snape even confiscated my pills, and when I went to go and ask if there was an equivalent magical potion he just sneered at me and said, 'Don't mention those disgusting things to me, Miss Potter. That sort of thing is for witches to discuss." Her eyes were practically smoking with fury. "But we can't discuss it with witches, oh no, because it's too much trouble for our 'dear' Headmaster to call _one_ sex education class. I've had to learn from books. _Books_! Do you know how vague those diagrams are?! I waited a whole _six months_ until I could get back to the muggle world and ask my _aunt_ about it! And let me tell _you_, my aunt is _not_ the person you discuss that sort of thing with. But I did, because I had to, and god help me, she was more helpful than you lot!

"And the Triwizard Tournament! _No _consideration for the female competitors. What do you think they would have done if I'd started my period and then I had to jump into a _lake_?! Not _bloody_ much! Because, according to them, this sort of thing _doesn't exist_! And I've had to fight Blast-Ended Skrewts, Acromantulas and Boggarts - all with _blood_ dripping from between my thighs! Do you know how many dark creatures that attracts!?

"And now I'm in a graveyard with d-dead people and my parents died and you're so _insensitive _and if you're going to kill me, then just do it already, because the pain's unbearable and I just wanna _die_!" She collapsed into tears again, drawing deep panting breaths into her struggling lungs.

"Wormtail," Voldemort whined. "I need the blood!"

"BLOOD?!" Harriet shrieked, throwing her hands in the air. "I have _plenty_ of blood. _Leaking _out of me, in fact! Why don't you just hold me over that cauldron over there-" she gestured wildly "- and _shake_ me?! Hmmm!?"

"Wormtail-" The Dark Lord began considerately.

"DON'T YOU _DARE_!" Harriet screamed in outrage. "Now you will take me home, call 'Mione and tell her that I _need_ her for _Christ's_ sake and that it's a code red and to bring chocolate." She finished hysterically. "Got it?!"

Wormtail nodded meekly.


	24. My Immortal Harry

**Most of the humour in this comes from the notorious fanfiction 'My Immortal', so if you haven't read it, you probably won't get it. Basically, it's a fanfiction infamous for it's hugely Mary Sue protagonist and awful grammar. T****he things in italics and speech marks are direct (or damn well close to) ****quotes ****from the fanfiction!**

**There's some bad language in this, because it wouldn't be My Immortal if there wasn't!**

* * *

**Harry's a vampire (but not really) and Enoby pops up.**

* * *

_"__Hi my name is Enoby Dark'ness Dementia Way and I have long ebony black hair with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears-"_

"What the hell are limpid tears?" Harry whispered to Voldemort, staring at this strange girl who had come out of nowhere.

"Something clear or transparent." Voldemort replied with a furrowed brow.

"Can you even _have_ transparent icy blue eyes?" Harry questioned.

"I don't think so."

The two of them looked at her eyes with vague interest.

"They're the colour of mud." Harry murmured.

"It makes me feel rather sick." Voldemort heaved.

_"__I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow."_

"Who is she talking too?" Harry edged closer to the Dark Lord.

"It's either herself, or us." Voldemort replied slowly.

"Why does she need to tell us what she's wearing. Or herself? And in such… painful detail?" the Boy Who Lived closed his eyes and winced as she listed every teen clothes shop in existence.

"Maybe she's forgotten?" Voldemort suggested helplessly. Then the girl noticed Harry.

_"__I was looking into the pale white face of a gothic boy with spiky black hair with red streaks in it. He was wearing so much eyeliner that I was going down his face and he was wearing black lipstick. He didn't have glasses anymore and now he was wearing red contact lenses just like Draco's and there was no scar on his forhead anymore. He had a manly stubble on his chin. He had a sexy English accent. He looked exactly like Joel Madden. He was so sexy that my body went all hot when I saw him kind of like an erection only I'm a girl so I didn't get one you sicko." _She narrated in a droning voice, dribbling slightly as she stared at the Boy Who Lived.

Harry was horrified. "I don't look like that, do I?" he asked pleadingly, tilting his face up towards Voldemort.

"No Potter. You look just like your usual weedy, under-developed self." Voldemort assured him curtly, trying not to let his enemy notice his gradual backing away.

_"OMG! Vampire! I luv you, but u r such a prep 4 hpling Draco cheet on me. Hes my bf and wiv me u fucking losr! But you make me so hot undr my cloves. Lets make out and u can put ur thing in my whol!"_ The girl – 'Enoby' starting lurching towards the pair, her arms outstretched desperately and her smudged lips pursed into a soppy pout. _"Kiss me, you fucking hotty!"_

"Well, go on then Potter. Kiss her, be done with it and get her _awa_y from me." Voldemort hissed, pushing Harry towards the horrifying _thing_. Harry was resistant and dug his heels in. "Just kill her!" He demanded in a hushed voice.

"I thought you didn't condone killing?" Voldemort sneered, stopping his shoves.

"This is the exception." Harry muttered under his breath, his eyes filled with more fear than Voldemort had ever seen.

"I don't know. The crazy girl has the crush on _you_, not me. I don't see how killing her would benefit _me_ in the slightest." Voldemort mockingly considered.

"I'll be your slave for a day."

"A month."

"A week."

"Three weeks."

"Two weeks- dammit!" Voldemort cursed.

"Ha! Now get rid of her. Quickly! Before she…" Harry gulped, "_Kisses_ me."

Voldemort stepped forward, wand raised.

_"__Then all of a suddenly, an horrible man with red eyes and no nose and everything started flying towards me on a broomstick! He didn't have a nose (basically like Voldemort in the movie) and he was wearing all black but it was obvious he wasn't gothic. It was… Voldemort!"_ She spouted dully.

"What movie?" Voldemort queried Harry over his shoulder, approached 'Enoby' cautiously.

"Does it matter? She's clearly escaped from a ward in St Mungos. Just get rid of her and be done with it!" Harry snapped, crossing his arms.

_"__Anyway, I started crying tears of blood and then I slit both of my wrists. They got all over my clothes so I took them off and jumped into the bath angrily while I put on a Linkin Park song at full volume. I grabbed a steak and almost stuck it into my heart to commit suicide. I was so fucking depressed! I got out of the bathtub and put on a black low-cut dress with lace all over it sandly. I put on black high heels with pink metal stuff on the ends and six pairs of skull earrings. I couldn't fucking believe it."_

The two of them looked in disbelief at the corpse on the floor.

"She killed herself." Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Obviously. Did she think she was going to survive that?" Voldemort scoffed.

"It just seemed a little… unprovoked." He sighed.

"Well, I _was_ going to kill her." The Dark Lord pointed out.

"You've tried to kill _me_ several times." Harry pointed out. "_I_ haven't turned suicidal."

"No, that's a different fanfiction altogether."

"What?"

"Just ignore me. It's been a strange day."

Harry kicked the body non-too-gently, but it didn't twitch. "Huh, she really is dead."

"Face it, she probably did the world a favour."

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose so. Just seems a little… anticlimactic."

"Well what did you expect? A huge confrontation, with guns, and cameras, and wombs?"

"Suppose not." Harry scratched his ear. "Shall we put this whole thing behind us? You can try to kill me another day. I just need to sleep. Knowing my luck, this has all been a hallucination, and I'm actually dead or something."

"That's a different _book_ altogether."

"Huh?"

"Nothing, nothing. Well, see you around then, Potter?"

"Yeah. See you!"

The two of them turned around.

_"__WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUKERS!_

_It was….Dumbledore!"_

"NOOOOOOO!"


	25. Ghost Harry

**I imagine the song sung to the tune of 'Oranges and Lemons, said the bells of St Clemmons.' Or, if you're a little more ginger; a slow funeral march. :)****  
**

* * *

**Harry's dead and Myrtle will be pleased.**

* * *

"H-hello? Hello? D-Dumbledore? I-it's Harry. I think he's… I think he's _dead._" Cedric wandered through a fog-covered graveyard, face glazed over.

"WHAT?"

Cedric winced and covered his ears. "Um, hello? Who's there?"

"Oh, I think you know. I think the whole WORLD knows!" Emerging from the fog dramatically, a faint silhouette took shape. Its head was bulbous, creating an alien likeness and its limbs were bony and malformed, forming claws hands at the end of each stick-like arm. It appeared to be levitating out of the grey mist and the light illuminating its features was an unearthly green.

"An… abused baby?" Cedric frowned.

"Lord Voldemort, you fool." The creature sneered. "Urgh, where's Potter when you need him? _He_ would have recognised me." The Dark Lord wobbled unsteadily and he rolled his eyes. "Put me down, you imbecile, and extinguish that infuriatingly bright light."

The smoke cleared to reveal Lord Voldemort balanced precariously on one of Wormtail's hands. The other was being used to hold a wand, which was emitting a weak green glow.

"Put me down." Voldemort ordered. "Now!" Wormtail placed him on the floor carefully.

"Now, go get the brat's body - I can only pray the blood hasn't cooled." The Dark Lord hmphed. Wormtail looked taken-aback. "The-the b-body?"

"Yes. His _corpse_. Remains, cadaver, carcass, carrion – whatever you want to call it." Voldemort said impatiently. Wormtail started shuffling towards the Portkey nervously.

"Hurry up!" Voldemort snapped. Wormtail flinched and grasped a handle. He disappeared with a short squeak.

Cedric was still frozen; murmuring, "He _died_. He _died._ He _died_."

"Yes, he did. Get over yourself." Voldemort grouched, crossing his arms. "It's _my_ enemy who's dead, and it wasn't me who killed him!"

"But he's dead." Cedric whispered hoarsely, his eyes haunted.

"Indeed. I can't say I'm gutted, but there's a small twinge, deep inside me, which _might_ be grief. Or maybe I'm just hungry." Voldemort shrugged nonchalantly. There was a silent, broken only by Cedric's occasional moans and groans.

"What was it that killed him?" The Dark Lord inquired.

"A-acromantula. It b-bit him and the b-black spread through h-his v-veins-" Cedric shuddered.

"Darn. It wasn't even one of my followers. Just some stupid _spider_."

There was a 'womph' and Wormtail reappeared, Harry's dead body slung over his shoulder. He was trembling under the heavy weight, and finally plonked it on the ground, collapsing onto the grass beside it.

"Don't mutilate it!" Voldemort complained.

"It was _heavy_." Wormtail whined.

"Don't be a weak, pathetic… _Dumbledore_!" Voldemort spat.

"I can't help it." Wormtail whimpered. "It was how I was born."

"Just cut off his arm and drip the blood in."

_"__Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son. Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master. Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe."_

As Voldemort examined his arms with sadistic delight, neither Wormtail nor the Dark lord noticed the transparent form of Harry Potter materialise over his deceased body.

Harry looked down at his silver-tinted arms in horror. "Godammit! I'm dead." Harry ran his fingers through his white hair. "Myrtle will be so _pleased_. 'If you die, you can share my bathroom, Haaaryyyyy'. _Urgh._ It'll be _torture._ Can't I find peace in my afterlife?" Harry spotted Voldemort and his face lit up (literally, it started glowing). "_You_ won't be returning to Hogwarts, will you? You'll be doing evil stuff, taking over the world…"

"_No._" Voldemort breathed in terror. "You _can't_."

"I'll haunt _you_. It'll mean escape from Myrtle, vengeance on my parent's murderer… and it'll be _fun_. It's about time I had some fun, even if I have to be dead to do it!" Harry said stubbornly, warming even more to the notion.

"You can't!" Voldemort wailed hysterically. "You can't carry on annoying me when you're _dead_. What am I supposed to threaten you with?"

"This just gets better and better." The cunning ghost chuckled, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"Argh!" Voldemort stamped his foot in irritation. "Come on. We're _moving_." He told his whimpering follower and marched off up the path, muttering in irritation.

"You can't escaaape," Harry sang, floating after them. _"Oh Voldy, oh Voldy, your nose has gone mouldy, it dropped off your face, and went into space."_

_…_

"He's dead. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead…"


	26. YouTuber Harry

**For the purpose of this, electricity does work around magic. :)**** It's just a lie set up by the ministry to encourage wizard and muggle separation. BECAUSE THEY ARE EVIL!**

* * *

**Harry has a video camera and Voldemort doesn't have twitter.**

* * *

Harry held a finger to his lips, signalling for Voldemort to be quiet. Voldemort, utterly bemused by the muggle device pointed at his and his enemy's face, did as he was told. Harry held up a camera, pointed it at his face, and pressed record. "Hey Magicians, this is a special video! I'm here with the Dark Lord himself; Lord Voldemort. You can check out the link to his twitter page below."

"I don't have a 'tritter' page, Potter. What is that, a muggle torture device?"

"You don't? Who _doesn't_ have twitter? This is the 21st century!"

"I was born fifty years ago, Potter."

"Okay, fine. Whatever. So, there _won't_ be a link to his twitter page below – dammit, I'm going to have to edit this out – but you can google him, and I'm sure you'll come up with _something_. Now, this guy," Harry slung an arm over Voldemort's shoulder. "We have had some _crazy_ times- let me tell _you_."

"What's going on Potter?" Voldemort asked irritably, shaking Harry's arm off.

"He has no idea," Harry winked at the camera, "What a camera even is. And I assure you– _he_ is a Dark Lord. Not one off of Star Wars (though I think he would _totally_ rock the Sith Lord look), but a magic one. And I know some of you guys think I've made up the whole 'I'm a wizard' thing – and I am _so_ flattered that you think I could fake a whole magic _school _– but let me introduce you, my magicians, to Lord Voldemort."

"Potter-"

"The same Lord Voldemort who tried to kill me when I was one, my first and second year. I've mentioned him in quite a few of my videos, mostly 'I'M A WIZARD!', 'I ALMOST DIED' and 'I HATE SNAKES'." He turned to Voldemort. "You have a fan page. Quite a lot of the fan art is pretty accurate." He paused for a minute with the camera on the Dark Lord's face.

"What are you doing?" Voldemort hissed.

"There'll be a split screen now, showing some of my favourite fan art against your face. It's all pretty cool actually, I'll email you the link."

"…What's an email?"

"Ok then, I won't." He gritted his teeth, muttering something about "old people and technology" but took a deep breath and pasted a smile to his face. "And for all of you guys out there who think I just hire actors (and I admit, it's a legitimate theory): could I really create a face this hideously ugly and scaly with makeup? Look at the hatred and sadistic pleasure in those eyes." He zoomed in on Voldemort's face. "Could I really fake that? Although, if I did, I would totally get Ralph Fiennes to play him. I mean, look at this guy"- he gestured to an empty space on his left- "He's perfect for the role. Maybe even more perfect then you, Voldy. Sorry. You just can't compete with the Fienness- ha!" He laughed and flicked his wrist.

"…There's no one there, Potter." Voldemort said, glancing at the Boy Who Lived with concern.

"There will be." Harry assured him, before looking back at the camera. "This guy is _insane._ I just beat Cedric to the end of the maze – cue _whoo!_ sound effect – and I touched the handle of the Triwizard Trophy. It was a bloody portkey! Then they tied me to a gravestone and took my blood for a ritual- urgh, I can see the fanfiction now."

"What's fanfiction?" Voldemort asked innocently.

"The most traumatizing three hours of your life – no, but seriously, I love you guys. Anyway, gotta go – if I stick around he might try and kill me – _again_. BoyWhoLived apparating out!" And he pressed stop.

He immediately began typing on his phone.

"What are you doing, Potter?" Voldemort asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowing.

"Sorry about this, but you did murder my parents _so_… I tweeted our address to my followers." Harry shrugged apologetically.

"How many followers do you have?" Voldemort asked worriedly. Was his enemy's army bigger than his?

"I'm a British Youtuber, how many do you think?" Harry rolled his eyes. "Look, they won't do anything awful to you –now _that_ would be bad for my fanbase – just maybe create some tumblr posts, re-enact some smutty fanfiction… it'll be fine. You might even have fun." Harry straightened his t-shirt (reading 'It's Ironic') and waved, "Bye!"

He walked away, flicking through the footage on his camera. "By the way, don't even _try_ to escape. They _will_ find you. Ta rah!" He focused on the abandoned portkey lying on the grass. "Now _this_ would make good footage." He flicked the screen open on his camera and zoomed in on the cup. "Oh, look. What do we have here?" Then he disappeared with a "Dammit, I forgot to press record!"


	27. Salesman Harry

**I don't know if any of you clicked on the latest chapter 'YouTuber Harry' earlier, and it was a load of unidentifiable code? Sorry about that, and it's been fixed! My computer completely spazzed out, and I had to update on my phone.**

* * *

**Harry is a cunning salesman and Wormtail's a gullible fool.**

* * *

"Hello. I'd like to take the opportunity to offer you a wide range of products. We have magical lawn mowers; easy to assemble with only three charms as demonstrated in the leaflet. You never have to go through all those cutting charms again. With just a simple wand flick to start and finish, it identifies all uneven areas of grass and cuts them to an outstanding quality. Now only 20 Galleons, 4 sickles."

"…"

"No? That's fine, fine. I have more! Have you ever needed to add that little extra _something_ onto your food? Well now you can, with crushed Humphra eggs, imported all the way from South Africa. I can guarantee that the Humphras were free range, and raised with no extra magic to contaminate them. The powder is uniquely spicy, with a little exotic musk. For a pot of it, I can take 2 Galleons, 5 knuts. I have a sample, if you'd like to try it?"

"…"

"Not for you? Don't worry, I'm sure I have _something_ here that you need. Ah! I notice you're not wearing shoes. Fashion just too hard to get your head around? I have the answer! Made with the finest acromantula silk, these curly toed slippers are coming back in! They featured on the front cover of Magical!Vogue, and have been seen on iconic figures in fashion, such as the beautiful Madam Delacour, the dashing Julius Aquas and the charming Millicent Reynolds. All this, and they're only 60 Galleons."

"…"

"Not hitting that spot? I can also sell you the new Travelling Sofa. With soft seat padded by cushioning charms, this is the new, comfortable alternative to the floo and a family friendly method of transportation. Ever get tired of your child throwing up after the dizzying floo travel? Just take a seat on the Travelling Sofa, and it safely apparates you and your family to the determined destination. Best of all, you need an adult to register their magical signature for the sofa to move, ensuring your children don't play on it and accidently get lost in the desert! You can pay for this in three instalments of 50 Galleons over six months,"

"… I just want your blood."

"I'm sorry, but that's not on our list."

"… But I don't want anything else."

"Goodbye. Thanks for your time."

"But – I need your blood!"

"I'm sorry, I have other houses to visit."

"But… urgh. Fine! I'll buy the stupid shoes."

"Excellent."


	28. Goblin Harry

**Harry is raised by Goblins. All you need to know.**

* * *

_"__Gza spla too gnaif ofa dijs fhs jaa."_ Harry spat.

"I'm sorry, I don't speak _your_ language. It's all… well, _Gobbledook _to me." Voldemort shrugged with a condescending sneer.

_"__Fusj ha sja da ah sha gza fou su!"_ Harry roared, drawing his sword.

"Oh what are you going to do with _that_, you uncivilised beast? Sort my gold?" Voldemort laughed uproariously.

_Slice!_

"_Ga ju,_ you fucker." Harry growled, kicking the Dark Lord's head as it rolled to a stop at his feet.


	29. Pokemon Harry

**Harry loves his Oshawott and Voldemort's addicted to Pokemon.**

* * *

_"__Harry Potter, we meet a-"_

"Shhhhh."

_"__What?!"_

"My Oshawott's about to evolve."

_"__Your… Oshott?"_

"Awesome, Dewott!"

_"…__What are these… things?"_

"Well, Oshawotts are a part of a video game called Pokémon. You have to raise creatures, which have different attacks, and then face them off against each other in fights to earn money and badges. There are tournaments and gym leaders to defeat and everything."

_"__So this… veedio game pitches House Elves against each other in gory fights to the death for mere Galleons? And there are also Dark lords whom you have to crush in order to gain victory?"_

"God, you make everything sound so _evil_. But, basically, yes."

_"__I _like_ this game."_

"Er, if it makes you like it any less; the Pokémon are cute."

_"__Give it here. In what insane world could vicious killing machines be cute- oh. I see what you mean."_

"Yep."

_"__Oh my Merlin, they're _adorable."

"Just makes you feel sick, doesn't it?"

_"… __just go up here… through this grass… ooo, I have a challenge!... what attack to use?..."_

"Er, could I have my DS back now?"

_"__Take that, you pixilated fiend!"_

"No, really, I'd like it back now."

_"__Ha! You should have known better than to mess with the Dark Lord..."_

"… I hate you."

_"__What's new?"_

"I _really _hate you."

_"__Shut up, my Bulbasaur is evolving."_

"I wish you'd just _die_."

_"__Go suck a Poké Ball."_


	30. Rapper Harry

**The bold bits are quotes from the book. Also, I wrote all these songs/raps, so don't sue me!**

* * *

**Harry can write a mean rap, and Voldemort ain't got nothin' like his style.**

* * *

**'****"My Lord …" he choked, "my Lord… you promised… you did promise…"**

**"Hold out your arm," said Voldemort lazily.**

**"Oh Master . . . thank you, Master ..."**

**He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed again.**

**"The other arm, Wormtail."**

**"Master, please... please..."**

**Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail's left arm; he forced the sleeve of Wormtail's robes up past his elbow, and Harry saw something upon the skin there, something like a vivid red tattoo - a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth - the image that had appeared in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup: the Dark Mark. Voldemort examined it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable weeping.**

**"It is back," he said softly, "they will all have noticed it... and now, we shall see... now we shall know..."**

**He pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on Wormtail's arm.**

**The scar on Harry s forehead seared with a sharp pain again, and Wormtail let out a fresh howl; Voldemort removed his fingers from Wormtail's mark, and Harry saw that it had turned jet black.****Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently too; and then he raised it, and pointed it at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Harry was tied; he fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying. Voldemort turned his scarlet eyes upon Harry, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.'**

Harry looked up dramatically, his perfectly styled hair flicking out of his face. Suddenly, there was a stage light focused on him, and a beat began to play in the background. Voldemort looked around wildly as a Harry began move from side to side, and a pair of sunglasses materialised on his face.

"What _is_ this magic?! Some kind of scheme?! What's going on – Albus? Are you behind this?!"

_"__Hey Mr Voldemort, _

_Why you bein' so being so mean?_

_Trying to beat up the little guy,_

_You're on the same team!_

_He's only tryin' to help_

_Only payin' his price_

_But you scarring his arm_

_Would it hurt to be nice?_

_Just be nice, dude._

_Just be nice._

_Just be nice, dude_

_Just be nice._

_He's a loyal servant_

_Betrayed his own gang_

_Just to follow his master_

_Who's that? You, man!_

_Give him some love_

_The respect he deserves,_

_And for ever and ever_

_It's you that he serves!_

_Just be nice, dude._

_Just be nice._

_Just be nice, dude_

_Just be nice._

_But this is only advice,_

_You don't have to follow_

_I get it, I do!_

_It's a hard load to swallow_

_But give him some peace_

_And the time of the day_

_And who knows dude?_

_You could both be gay!_

_Just be nice, dude._

_Just be nice._

_Just be nice, dude_

_Just be nice._

_This was Potter,_

_Peace out!"_

The music faded away, and everything was silent.

"… I am NOT gay!"

Everyone stared at Wormtail, who went bright red and scuttled away muttering, "I'm _not_!" under his breath.

Voldemort shook his head in despair and looked at Harry doubtfully. "Did _you_… write that? Because we have copyright laws on here."

"Yes I did. My very own work. I'm releasing an album soon. It's called Hippogriffs and Hufflepuffs, by Undesirable No.1. It's well cool. But, you wouldn't 'ppreciate it, man. You is well old! You is ancient!" Harry laughed, flicking his wrist.

"Youths these day- _butchering_ the English language. Since when was 'is' a replacement for 'are'?"

**'****The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forward . . . slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe their eyes.'**

"M-my Lord. You-you are back!" An oily stutter, and Harry's face lit up. "Luci! Dude! I thought you was under the imperious, man!"

"Shut up, Potter." Malfoy snapped.

"But I thought we had a connection. You were my bro!"

"My Lord, please can we kill him?"

"Now hold on a minute! What's all this talk of killing people? We should get along, man. You could be my mates, my gang! Kisses and hugs, and all that hippy shit." Harry pulled his jacket lapels, and straightened his hat. "I wrote a rap 'bout that. It goes a little like this."

"Oh Merlin- not another one!"

_"__I was lying in bed,_

_Just had a nightmare,_

_Why we always battle?_

_It aint even fair!_

_People get hurt_

_And that's not cool_

_So I thought to myself,_

_Just follow one rule!_

_Peace and love,_

_Guys, we don't need war_

_Peace and love_

_On my broomstick; soar!_

_We might be enemies_

_Might get in some fights_

_But I'll call you frenemies_

_We'll go out for nights._

_And I'll buy you Tequila _

_And I'll order you shots_

_And we'll all be wingmen_

_Best mates that we got._

_Peace and love,_

_Guys, we don't need war_

_Peace and love_

_On my broomstick; soar!_

_We'll buy matching hoodies_

_And get a new name_

_We'll get all the girls,_

_Money, fortune and fame!"_

Harry was jumping up and down by this point, pumping his fist. Some of the Death Eaters had whipped off their robes to reveal themselves to be back up dancers and were now dancing behind Harry.

_"__You can ditch your wives_

_Ditch your lives_

_Hang with this son,_

_And have some fun!_

_Frenemies!_

_Frenemies!_

_Frenemies!_

_Frenemies!_

_Whoo!"_

There was a silence, and suddenly one lone Death Eater at the back piped up. "I'll be your friend!"

"I is likin' yo style!" Harry nodded, making his way towards the Death Eater and pulling him into a one armed hug.

It was like a dam had been opened.

"I'll be your friend!"

"I suppose it wouldn't be so bad."

"I _would_ like to get away from Narcissa-"

"And Susan-"

"And Layla-"

"And Victoria!"

The Death Eaters all pulled off their masks and milled around Harry, answering his high fives and patting each other's backs.

"Looks like I got me a possy!" Harry yelled.

"Urgh, defeated by the power of choreography." Voldemort groaned.

"One thing: what's 'Tequila'?" A thick-set man with brown eyes and more muscle than the Hulk asked innocently.

"I'm glad you asked, Goyle. It's like Firewhiskey… but _better_." Harry explained wide-eyed. Everyone exploded into cheers and whoops.

"How do you even know what Firewhiskey tastes like? You're not of age!" Voldemort tried to makes himself heard over the ruckus.

"When you is a rapper, age don' even matter – oh!" Harry laughed and flicked his wrist again. "I'm a poet, an' I don' even know it!"

The former Death Eaters roared with laughter and pulled Harry up onto their shoulders, carrying him away to the chant of 'Encore! Encore! Encore!..."

"Alrigh', just one more rhyme!

_"__All you Hufflehoes,_

_Just gather around,_

_I'll show you one thing,_

_And that is my sound!_

_My Gryffindor roar_

_You ain't heard no other!_

_'__Cept the awesome hiss,_

_Of my Slytherin brother…"_

"Hello? Hello?" Lord Voldemort growled and stomped off, slamming the door to his house.

"I'm _not_ gay… I'm _not_ gay… I'm _not_ gay…"


	31. Moody Harry

**Harry knows CONSTANT VIGILANCE and Moody is, well... paranoid.**

* * *

Harry looked suspiciously between the Triwizard Cup and Cedric Diggory.

"Why do _you_ want me to win?" Harry said gruffly. Cedric couldn't keep his gaze off Harry's false eye. "Because… Hogwarts… loyalty- I can't do this. I'm sorry, but can you _please_ tell me whether you did or did not gouge your own eye out just because you wanted a fake one like Moody's? The rumours have been driving me crazy."

Harry smirked. "Constant vigilance."

"I want a serious answer."

"Constant vigilance."

"No, honestly. I'd like to know."

"Constant vigilance."

"Tell me!"

"Constant vigilance."

"TELL ME FOR MERLIN'S SAKE!"

"STUPEFY!" Harry watched as the limp form of Cedric Diggory sailed through the air and collided with the pedestal, causing the trophy to fall onto his head. Both the unconscious Hufflepuff and the cup disappeared. Harry grunted with satisfaction and pulled out a mirror.

"Alastor Moody." He said, and almost immediately he got a full view of a false eye peering cautiously into the glass.

"What's the code?" came the harsh question.

"4953749620420373."

"My favourite colour?"

"A bright sunshine yellow."

"Why?"

"Because it's the brightest and easiest colour to see. No one can hide whilst wearing sunshine yellow." Harry recited.

"Good." The false eye shrunk, and the face of Alastor Moody took its place. "Your turn."

"What's the code?"

"The Beatles all wear polka dot underwear."

"What's the first thing I remember?"

"Me hanging you off the chandelier and interrogating you about any former Death Eater history." Moody said with a fond grin. Harry nodded seriously. "The Triwizard Cup was a Portkey."

"Did you take it?"

"No. I stunned Diggory and sent him."

"Good lad." Moody said proudly.

"Does the imposter still think you're trapped?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Aye. I think it's time to show him what a true Auror can do." Moody smirked in anticipation.

"Can I watch?"

"I suppose so. It'll be a good learning experience, teach you how to handle filthy Dark Wizards. And remember: CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

"Sir, yes sir!" Harry saluted, and put the mirror away.


	32. Turtle Harry

**This is for you, Extended Experience. You're one of my favourite reviewers and I was looking through my reviews (280 * dreamy sigh*), and just saw your turtle thing. My whole brain just went 'What the hell!'**

**Also, shoutout to timefreak, who shouted out to ME on one of his fics! A SHOUTOUT! ABOUT ME! I was seriously so excited, I screamed and boasted to everyone I knew… and some I didn't. So, read his fics (all of them!), and that is an order! They're all hilarious and awesome!**

* * *

**Harry is a turtle and Voldemort has ****chelonaphobia.**

* * *

"Animagus form!" Harry thrust a fist into the air. Voldemort and Wormtail watched with interest. What form would the legendary Harry Potter take? A mythical creature thought only to exist thousands of years ago? A shadow panther? A lion to represent his bravery and strength? A unicorn to show his purity and golden heart?

"A… turtle?" Wormtail looked disappointed as he looked at the slow-plodding, slightly drowsy-looking animal in front of him. "That's less scary than a rat! At least a rat is vaguely creepy." Wormtail suddenly laughed and turned to his master. "My Lord, your enemy's animagus form is a measly turtle-" He halted his chuckles when he saw Lord Voldemort cowering behind him. "T-t-turtle!" Voldemort stuttered, hiding behind his hands. "I-it's s-so horrible."

"_You_ have a fear of _turtles_?" Wormtail asked incredulously.

"T-they're g-green and their s-shells – it's j-just not n-natural!" Voldemort shuddered.

Harry morphed back. "Lord Voldemort has _chelonaphobia_?" He turned to Wormtail in disbelief.

"I know! Wait- what's chelnophobia?" Wormtail scratched his head in embarrassment.

"A fear of turtles." Harry told him, watching the Dark Lord growing more and more confident with every passing moment that Harry was out of his animagus form.

"Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. When I-"

Harry turned back into a turtle. Voldemort screamed.

"There's no way I'm following _him_." Wormtail scoffed, and looked at the turtle. "Can I follow you?"

Harry gave what Wormtail assumed to be the turtle equivalent of a shrug. Pettigrew took his rat form and scurried behind his new master, watching as Harry slowly advanced on a trembling Dark Lord. Voldemort began to mutter something about "The power the Dark Lord knows not."

He sounded a bit crazy really.

Harry gave his robes a lazy snap with his beak and gave a wheezy turtle chuckle when Voldemort squeaked and flinched. He gave Wormtail an awkward sort of head nod thing which was turtle for 'come on' and began to shuffle slowly across the floor. Harry shrugged again and turned back, mumbling to himself about finding the nearest coastline. Then he picked Wormtail up and they apparated away, leaving a hysterical Dark Lord shrieking, "The turtles are coming to get me! They'll kill me! They'll murder me in my sleep! They'll crawl under my covers at night and bite my toes off!"

He never recovered.


	33. Lockhart Harry

**Wormtail's a fan and Harry sees an opportunity for a book.**

* * *

"Hello? Do you want an autograph? You didn't have to drag little old me all the way out here for that, you know. I have to pay homage to my adoring fans!" Harry peered around the graveyard slightly uncertainly. "Er, come out ladies!"

Wormtail emerged from behind a gravestone with a copy of 'Duelling with Dragons' clutched tightly to his chest. He had a shy smile on his face and his watery blue eyes were filled with bashed adoration.

Harry blanched.

"Oh, you aren't _quite_ what I was expecting, but nevertheless…" Harry looked at the book and quill held out to him in exaggerated surprise. "Oh! You want _me_ to sign _this_? Well, I _never_. Very well then. Your name?"

"Peter Pettigrew."

"Very nice." Harry said, oblivious to any connotations. Humming quietly, he signed his name in a loopy scrawl across the book cover.

_To my most interesting fan,_

_Harry Potter_

Suddenly, Wormtail slammed Harry against a gravestone and conjured up rough ropes to tie him to it tightly.

"Oh I say! This is _most_ unorthodox!"

As Wormtail tightened the bonds, Harry began to find it hard to breathe. "Do you know how expensive these robes were? They're ruined! I'll tell my editor! She'll sort you out with a… nasty… lawsuit…"

His vision began to go dark and stars popped right before his eyes. "Oh… how pretty…"

His last thought before he passed out was; _This will make a marvellous book. Pandemonium with Peter. It has a nice ring to it._


	34. Salazar Harry

**I do not condone violence, and every reference towards physical discipline in this chapter is for comic reasons!**

* * *

**Grandpa Harry is mad and Voldemort won't stop misbehaving.**

* * *

Harry grumbled as he landed in a graveyard. He marched across the grounds, the live snakes on his robes hissing in irritation.

_"__I know, I know."_ Harry agreed grumpily. _"Most inconvenient. The thumbscrews it is."_

"Salazar." From behind a gravestone, stepped the newly rebirthed Lord Voldemort, suitable creepy and snakeish.

Harry looked him up and down. "You're alive."

"Yes." Lord Voldemort conceded, inclining his head. "I was going to use you in the ritual, but I heard the rumours that _you_ were my ancestor reincarnated…?"

"They were true." Harry – or _Salazar_ – sighed. "And unfortunately, I can also confirm that we're related. I can only pray it's through one of my sister's lines. She was an idiot enough to have borne you. Merlin _knows_ it's embarrassing enough to have you using the Slytherin name, never mind being my however many greats _grandson._"

"Why?" Voldemort asked, slightly hurt. "I've done everything in _your_ name! I've opened the Chamber, razed muggle towns to the ground, murdered my impure father's line. Now you're back we can purge the world of filthy muggles and their offspring together."

"There are several issues I'd like to point out here. However, I can't say them all, because that would take years. Merlin knows how I wish I could have raised you, if only to save the world from your stupidity. First off: Lord _Voldemort_? '_Flee from death'_? That's the most cowardly thing I've ever heard. I would be ashamed to even be _associated _with you. Secondly: purge the world of muggles? That was fine when muggles were no better than animals and hadn't even invented electricity yet, but they've advanced since then, '_Tommy-boy'_. I'd even say they're a fair bit further ahead than so-called 'wizards''."

"But you were abused! _Muggles_ abused you!"

"They're not _all_ evil! That would be like calling all witches evil, just because I've met Ginny Weasley! At least _muggles_ don't crucify everyone who can speak a foreign language!" Harry shook his head sorrowfully. "The wizards of my time were accepting and welcoming. It's one of the reasons _I_ seemed so extreme. Ah, how the mighty have fallen."

Voldemort opened his mouth to object, but Harry advanced on him with narrowed eyes and accusing finger. "And _you_- why you haven't helped my reputation at all! 'In Salazar's name' 'Salazar would want'- I bloody well don't! I was _dead!_ How could I encourage or approve of _anything_?! Also, how many times have you tried and _failed_ to kill me; a _child?_! Oh how 'brave' of the 'great heir of Slytherin'; defeated by a baby!"

"I-"

"Also; what did you do to my snake!?" Harry yelled furiously.

"I… I…"

"It's dead. I know. That what happens when _you_ get nice things. I was forced to kill it, after you unleashed it - on a _school_. Of children! It was there to _protect _people, you bloody maniac! How was getting Hogwarts shut down helping at all?!"

"… When did you get your memories?"

"… A few weeks ago. It bloody well hurt, and _now_ I'm a cranky hundreds year old man with a misbehaving grandson -_Merlin_, I can only hope not. What do you think I'm going to do?"

"No- please-"

"I'm going to take you to a Muggle town and introduce you to Muggle culture- and you _will_ like it. Or Merlin help me, I will smack you so hard you will _not_ be able to sit down for a week!"

"I'm fifty years old-" Voldemort protested, turning red from humiliation.

"And how's that working out for you, hmm? Skulking in a graveyard with a useless rodent-"

"Hey!"

"- and failing to kill a little boy? Have you achieved your life ambition?" Harry asked sarcastically. Voldemort looked ashamed.

"No? So quit your yappin' and give some respect to your elders! And for Merlin's sake, change your name!"

"But I- ouch! Ow! Ouch ow! Let go of my ea- OW!"

"Shut up, boy! I'm going to teach you some manners, whether you want them or not!"


	35. Umbridge Harry

**I have a beta. Yay! RUGoing2writethat will be checking my chapters from now on. Thank you!**

* * *

**Umbridge raises Harry and the results are… well, ****_terrifying._**

* * *

Voldemort flinched back as he caught sight of his enemy. He was dressed in a blue sailor suit with shiny buckle shoes, and his hair arranged in an angelic halo around his rosy cheeks. He looked sickening sweet. Nevertheless, Voldemort soldiered on. "Harry Potter. How… fitting that you shall meet your end at my hands!"

Harry looked at the newly risen Voldemort pitifully, and patted his trousers down. "Hem, hem," He coughed sweetly. "Who is that _really_? I mean, it's not the Dark Lord, because he's not _real_. So why don't we stop this _silly_ little charade and you can take me home? Hmm? That would be the mature thing to do," Harry simpered and smiled condescendingly, "And we don't want to act like silly little children, _do_ we?"

Voldemort looked confused and more than a little angry. "I _am_ the Dark Lord Voldemort! I have risen from the grave to defeat the Boy Who Lived and take my place as ruler of the Magical World."

Harry turned white.

"This. Is. A. _Lie_." He spoke with punctuated anger, "Lord Voldemort is _dead_, due to the Ministry's wonderful war efforts, and _you_ would do well to remember it."

_"Merlin_, you're oblivious," Voldemort said disgustedly, "I'm standing right in front of you. How brainwashed _are_ you?"

"This is _clearly_ a set up designed to debase the Ministry. Lord Voldemort. Has. Not. Returned!"

"I have! I'm right here! I am Dark, I am a Lord (of sorts) and I'm real!"

Nothing.

"_Real!"_

Nothing.

"Helloooo! I exist!" Voldemort shook Harry's shoulders desperately, but Harry just ignored him.

"Fight me! Acknowledge me! Pl-h-hease!" Voldemort sobbed, sinking to the floor and beating the ground with his fists.

"I don't see any silly old 'Dark Lords' here, just a ridiculous man who thinks he can outwit the Ministry with a petty little stunt," Harry said, pointedly ignoring the sobbing Lord Voldemort.

"I j-just want you t-to believe in m-me! W-why c-can't you see m-me?" Voldemort asked helplessly, tears streaming down his face.

"Of _course_ I can see you, I see all too clearly. This. Is. A. _Lie_, and you will _never_ get a job at the ministry like my mother and Unc- I _mean;_ the Minister," Harry said with a tight smile and flaring nostrils.

"I don't want a-"

"This. Is. A. Lie!" Harry screeched. "_Everyone_ wants a Ministry job. A Ministry job is _the_ job. STOP LYING TO ME!"

"I j-just want s-someone t-to believe in m-"

"CRUCIO!"


	36. Anime Harry

**Thanks to my beta, RUGoing2writethat.**

* * *

**Harry thinks Voldemort is 'kawaii'. He firmly disagrees.**

* * *

Harry looked wide-eyed at the newly reborn Lord Voldemort.

Voldemort could swear he saw literal stars appear in his eyes.

Suddenly, Harry burst out of his ropes with superhuman strength and glomped the Dark Lord, attaching himself to Voldemort's leg. "KAWAII!" Harry squealed, his eyes scrunched up and his mouth open wide. "SO KAWAIIIIII!"

"I'm not 'cute'! What's going on?" The Dark Lord asked Wormtail furiously. "What's he doing?"

By now, tears were streaming down Harry's face. "LORD VOLDO SO KAWAIII!"

"It's Voldemort! Vol-de-mort!" The Dark Lord punctuated in complaint, but shook his head when the Fanboy-Who-Lived ignored him. He looked up in desperation at his follower. "Well get him off me!"

"B-but, my L-Lord, he m-might attack m-_me_!" Wormtail whined, looking at the screeching boy with apprehension. "I might catch it!"

"My life is more important than yours!" Voldemort shouted, tipping over from the sheer force of Harry's 'squee's.

"I-I politely disagree, my Lord." Wormtail said nervously, backing away from the scene slowly.

"COME BACK HERE, YOU TRAIT- ARGH!" Voldemort yelled, falling to the floor in a cloud of dust, his arms moving like windmills. "I'LL KILL YOU WORMTAIL! I'LL KILL YOU!"

"SO KAWAII! AI!"


	37. Hippy Harry

**Imagine Harry talking in an American accent, like the turtles in Finding Nemo. :)**

* * *

**Harry is coooool man, and Voldemort's aura is noooot good!**

* * *

"If you'd just embrace peace and love-" Harry looked at Voldemort's new appearance with a furrowed brow and slightly dazed expression. "Duuuuude, that is not what nature intended. You've gone against nature, man!"

"What are you talking about; 'against nature'? And why do you have dreadlocks?" Voldemort demanded sharply, eying the dirty ropes of black hair with disgust.

"Your aura is not good, dude! You have to get back to your core; your inner peace." Harry said soothingly, nodding his head wisely.

"My 'aura'? What nonsense is this? You mean my magical core?"

"No, dude. I mean your core. The part of your soul that's _connected_ with the world around you. The feeling in your heart when you step outside and just…" Harry took a deep breath. Voldemort tried to copy him cautiously, but as soon as he breathed in, he began coughing and clutching his nose. "Y-you h-haven't w-washed for d-days, h-have you?" Voldemort pounded his chest, eyes watering. "T-that's disgusting!"

"All better to get closer to nature, dude. If I carry a piece of the forest on me, I _become_ the earth. I become the embodiment of _life_. And that's cool, man."

"T-that's not life- t-that's the s-stench of d-death!" Voldemort choked.

"You clearly haven't found your happy place." Harry pouted consolingly. "Do you want to know how _I_ find my happy place?"

Voldemort shook his head desperately, but Harry ignored him.

"I just go up to a tree…" Harry demonstrated with an oak. "Wrap my arms around it, and give it a _big_ hug." Harry did so. "Feel your energy mingling with the tree's. Feel its life running through your veins. Feel its roots entwine with yours. (If you need to hump a little to _truly_ get to know your tree; feel free.) And then close your eyes, and-" Harry half-opened his eyelids. "-feel yourself completely at _peace_ with the world."

Voldemort stared at him in horror. "Oh my Merlin, you're completely batty."


	38. Lord Harry

**Sorry I haven't written a chapter lately guys, I just got a few bad test results and I've been a bit depressed recently. I'm kinda doubting my ability to write.**

* * *

**Harry's a Lord and the Wizarding World is a ****_republic_****.**

* * *

Voldemort stared at the display of pure, effortless wandless power in bewilderment.

"W-what? H-how? Even _Albus Dumbledore_ can't perform that kind of magic!" Voldemort spluttered.

"I am _Lord _Potter." Harry said as if the answer should be obvious.

"So?" Voldemort said, utterly bemused.

"Since I'm part of the tournament – a tournament for _adults_ – I am automatically of age. That means I get a Lordship and the ability to perform magic out of school and some other rights and honour stuff- I didn't pay much attention. Neville's showing me the ropes." Harry shrugged.

"Why does that mean you get awesome power?"

"I'm a Lord!"

"And…?"

"I dunno, something about 'familial magic' and heir rings- does it really matter? All you need to know is that I'm head of the ancient and noble Potter family and so automatically amazing." Harry crossed his arms huffily.

"It _does_- matter, that is. My whole force is made _purely_ of old, pureblood families; at least _half_ of them would be Lords and Ladies. I doubt such a ranking does exist,as that would imply a monarchy, and the Wizarding World is a _republic_. You _could_ argue that we're in England and therefore under the rule of the Queen, but we're governed by an entirely different set of rules, so I doubt the Queen has any influence. We only _inform _the Prime Minister what's going on (and even then with great intimidation and patronisation, which is practically muggle baiting, when you think about it), not defer to him."

Harry had no idea how Voldemort knew all about muggle culture and the monarchy. Although there _was_ that whole 'know thine enemy' thing...

"However, if we _did_ have Lords and Ladies, and that status gave you extra magic or some other nonsense, then _my_ number of high-ranking Pureblood families would far outweigh yours. Practically the _only_ other Pureblood family you have on your side are the Weasleys, and their only special talents are; still managing to be impoverished even though they can use magic; and extreme fertility."

Harry was slightly disgusted, but he had to concede. The Weasley's _were_ good at having babies. Voldemort continued with a smug grin.

"Also, with this whole 'amazing old family trumps all' aren't you arguing _for_ Pureblood elitism? Mudbloods don't come from old families, and so with your reasoning, Purebloods are superior."

"… You know, now you mention it, I think I might just be coming into my inheritance."


	39. Nudist Harry

**Harry won't put clothes on, and Voldemort won't join F.A.R.T**

* * *

"Oh god. I'll never recover," Voldemort gagged, turning his head away, "Put on some clothes!"

"Why should I change my views just to get someone to accept me?" Harry asked, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "This is how I feel comfortable, and so this is how I shall remain. I refuse to conform to society!"

"It's not conforming! It's goddamn covering yourself up so others aren't traumatized!" Voldemort shielded his eyes with his hand. He peeked a little and then shuddered. "Please." he croaked.

"I don't want to. I feel… at ease like this," Harry said mildly.

"Well that makes one of us!" Voldemort squawked.

"You know, there _is_ a rather nice breeze around here," Harry looked down, "The cold air feels _very_ nice on your privates. Archie was right, after all. I hope he isn't smug."

"Archie?" Voldemort asked cautiously. Were there more of these madmen that he needed to watch out for?

"A friend of mine. Met him at the Quidditch world cup where he was wearing a rather wonderful nightie. He _insisted_ the cold air wasn't uncomfortable, but I thought otherwise. We made a bet about it, as I _refused_ to go outside without warming charms. I thought I'd try it today." Harry looked around him and smiled. "I must say, I _do_ like the results. I'll be sharing this at the club." Harry mistook Voldemort's horror for confusion. "Archie's a member of a nudist club: 'Fresh Air Refreshes Totally' that practices in the muggle and wizarding world. There are no laws against public nudism in the wizarding world, you see. You should come along. It's liberating really, to feel the wind on your naked chest, the softness of plants as they brush against your skin, the warmth of sand against your bare b-"

"That's enough! Enough!" Voldemort yelped, looking disgusted. "I'll obliviate myself, I'll obliviate myself, I'll obliviate myself…" He started muttering.

"Are we going to fight? Celts went to war naked." Harry said mildly. "Come to think of it, I think they wore blue paint too. Wonderful role models; Celts," He remarked considerately.

"I'll obliviate myself, I'll obliviate myself…"

Harry nodded firmly, "Hang on, I'm just going to get blue paint and then I'll be back in a jiffy to do this duelling thing!" Harry ran off, his pale buttocks glowing under the light of the moon.

Suddenly, a terrible thought occurred to Voldemort. An awful, _awful_ thought that nearly made his skin peel off and his eyes pop out. A thought that should _never_ be uttered aloud, lest tsunamis rage and hurricanes howl. The thought was so _horrific_ that Voldemort had a mini heart attack right where he stood. As he lay on the floor, his head pounding, chest heaving...

_Wormtail naked._


	40. AVPM Harry

**This is based off A Very Potter Musical. If you haven't watchinng, you won't get this. You can watch it on YouTube, and if you don't have time to watch the full two hours, I recommmend you look up 'Ginny', 'Harry Freakin' Potter', and 'Lupin Can't Sing.**

* * *

**He's Harry Freakin' Potter and Voldemort ****_knows_**** already!**

* * *

"Gonna take you out… to…" Harry trailed off and looked around him in befuddlement. "Huh?"  
"Ah, Harry Potter, the Boy Who-"

"Yeah, that's me alright. I'm Harry freakin' Potter!"

"… Are you speaking in an American accent?" Voldemort said finally, regarding the boy in front of him cautiously. "And I know who you are; an insignificant little House Elf who managed to get lucky. But it won't happen again!"

"You don't understand, I'm a legend, man, to them all!" Harry cried out, punching a fist in the air.

"And I thought I was supposed to be the egotistical one."

"Every son and daughter – whoo!" He yelled and jumped on the spot. The Dark Lord backed away. "Safe from You-Know-Who-"

"You can say my name. You've done it before." Voldemort rolled his eyes.

"All because of me, I was small!"

"It was actually your mother. Some garbage about sacrificial magic and love and she-"

"But I wonder if you can recall…"

"Of course I can. I was there. Stop. Singing."

"Long story short, this guy Voldemort was super cruel-"

"I would say super cruel. I did what I had to." Voldemort said defensively.

"He tried to kill me and my parents and this is where it gets intensely cool-"

"Why are you telling me this? I know it all already. I am the only person here – you don't have an audience!" Voldemort explained slowly. "And I succeeded killing your mother and father!"

"Even though I was a tiny little boy, I should have died but I survived and then destroyed this evil guy and it's a story I enjoy to tell..."

"I don't get what's 'cool' about that. I killed your parents, left you an orphan and turned into a spirit. Not the stuff of dreams."

"I'm Harry freakin' Potter!"

"I know!"

"They don't prefer Gandalf, Merlin, or Oz."

"How do you know that: have you performed a survey? 'Cause I've been seeing a bit of villainizing in the press recently."

"I'm a whole lot hotter!"

"Now that's a matter of opinion."

"Hey, I'm super mega foxy awesome hot!" Harry declared, outraged. "Ginny loves me! Cho Chang will love me... with her sexy southern accent…"

"I thought Cho Chang was Chinese?"

"That's Lavender Brown. Racist Voldemort!" Harry shouted, clapping his hands loudly. Voldemort looked unimpressed. Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably and pulled his tie up. "With this lightning scar, I'm a superstar to them all! If they're in trouble they know who to call!"

"…They're in trouble now. I'm back! The evil Dark Lord is back from the dead! Here to raise hell and just be a dick. And you're singing. What? Do you think I'll just _die i_f you do a Mexican wave?... Oh Merlin, you're trying it."

Suddenly, Harry drooped, dropping his head in sorrow.

"Oh Merlin's beard, you're bipolar, aren't you? Why do I get all the crazy enemies? Is it too hard to get a decent witch or wizard to exchange witty banter and spells with?" Voldemort shook his fist up to the sky.

"But this is all so sad, I mean, my Mom and Dad were killed, long ago..."

"No kidding! I did it!" Voldemort threw his hands in the air. "You have a short term memory, don't you? You've had ten years to get over this!"

"I wanna be psyched, but being disliked is all I know."

"What? You were going on about how amazing you were earlier! I mean; make up your mind. Are you happy your parents died, or are you sad?"

"I never thought I'd be a part of such a fate."

"What fate? You don't even know about the prophecy yet!" Voldemort gestured wildly, clenching angrily at something invisible.

"An opportunity eleven years late."

"Eleven years late? You'd be three then! Did you want a three year old to have to save the world?" Voldemort said, shaking his head.

"I guess it's time for me step up to the plate and show them that I'm something great!"

"I'm not impressed so far. I'll go with… no."

"I'm Harry freakin' Potter! I'll do what I can, if what you say I am is true!"

"I've said nothing, and I hate you. Before it was just a prideful, pissy 'grrr you killed me' kind of thing, but now it is a burning furnace of fury," Voldemort said flatly.

"I can't be bothered by my awful past."

"Make up your mind!" Voldemort screeched.

"I've found at last something I can do."

"What? Sing in front of your parent's killer? Because that's not going to pay the mortgage."

"So it's time I knew exactly who I am..."

"Harry. Freaking. Potter. You've told me. Four. Times." Voldemort punctuated. Harry looked taken aback. "Woah, chill man. Sheesh. Touchy."

There was a silence.

"By the way… Voldy can't kill, Voldy can't kill, even with a sure fire kill curse…"

"DAMN YOU!"


	41. Lazy Harry

**Harry cannot be bothered and go away Voldemort!**

* * *

"Urgh!" Harry moaned, flopping down on the floor. "That was exhausting."

"What was?" The Dark Lord asked confusedly.

_"Traveling."_

"But-"

Harry lazily chucked a rock towards Voldemort. It hit him between the eyes and he fell to the floor, dead.

"I _cannot_ be bothered with you right now."


	42. Mary-Sue Harry

**Someone gave me this prompt and I just cannot thank them enough. Thank you. Okay, so there are several versions and the different types of Mary Sues here. I was thinking of posting them in different chapters, but then I thought- nah! **

**Also, I am aware that this isn't technically a 'Harry' but you guys can forgive me, right?**

* * *

**Mary... Sues... the horror... arghhh! Seriously, Harry: ****_why?_**

* * *

"Sapphire Sparkle! You have unknown powers that for some reason mean you are the only one to defeat me!" Voldemort exclaimed evilly.

"Oh my goodness. I am shocked!" Sapphire said, blinking her rainbow-coloured eyes that changed colour whenever she felt sad or happy. She had gorgeous long blond hair that fell in natural ways down her back, and luscious curves in all the right places.

"But my love, my soul mate, my only reason to live; what will I do if you are not here to kiss me after our two day relationship?" Harry asked desperately.

"Baby, my boyfriend with a Quidditch-toned body, soulful emerald eyes and messy black hair, I must do this! I would die for you; my love at first sight."

"And I for you." Harry vowed, staring into her deep, turquoise orbs.

"I must do this, for reasons yet to be explained." Sapphire flicked her thick red hair over her shoulder and turned to the Dark Lord, her glowing beauty making even him breathless. "I will defeat you!"

"How?" He laughed even more evilly.

"With my phoenix/Merlin/unspecified power!" She cried angelically, her love for Harry unlocking her special magic which immediately made Voldemort die.

"You saved me!" Harry breathed, "And now we must be married and have children!"

"They shall have obscure names!" Sapphire decided.

"THIS MAKES NO SENSE! IT'S KILLING ME!" Wormtail screeched, throwing himself to the ground and clawing his eyes out.

"Even though he betrayed my parents, I forgive him," Harry said majestically, gazing down at the rat's pathetic form.

"How noble of you," Sapphire sighed, staring, yet again, deeply into his green pupils.

"I _am_ in Gryffindor," He nodded.

* * *

"I WILL KILL YOU!" Voldemort screamed, for some reason aiming at Harry Potter's useless girlfriend rather than him.

"Arghh!" Mysteria screamed, throwing her hands up. Harry leapt towards her, pushing her out of the way heroically, his hair blowing in the wind.

"You saved me," She fluttered.

"I'll always save you," he promised, his deep voice echoing through the place that they were fighting at.

"Oh Harry!" She sighed.

"Hang on! I'm going to betray my parents for you, a beautiful girl of unknown origins that I barely met!" Draco appeared out of nowhere, throwing himself to the ground at her feet, his gorgeous blonde hair styled to perfection.

"Oh Draco!" She sighed.

Suddenly, a gravestone nearly fell on Mysteria. She screamed, frozen in place yet again, but Draco grabbed her and held Mysteria to his muscled chest tightly.

"You saved me!" She gushed.

"I love you!" He said, his eyes welling up with manly tears.

"But so do I!" Harry protested.

Mystria looked between the insanely hot guys vying for her attention and started crying. "I can't decide!"

_omg u guys. which one will she end up wiv? put ur answers on reviews and when I get 14 ill write the nxt chpter!_

* * *

Holla drew out her sword, her black hair tied back in an intricate, yet practical style. Then she engaged Voldemort in a dramatic sword fight, you know, with slashing and fighting and all that stuff that I saw on the Lord of the Rings.

"Where did Voldemort get a sword?" Harry asked helplessly, watching from the side lines.

"I don't know! It's strange that he decied to use a muggle weapon over the one he so clearly believes is superior!" Areina bellowed, managing to be masculine and feminine all at once. "But it gives me a reason to show off, so..."

Finally she did the thing where you flip the sword out of a hand and did the stab thing.

"Where did you learn to sword fight like that?" Harry asked in wonder.

Areina bowed her head in grief. "My dead father taught me before he was killed by Death Eaters. My mother was raped and then similarly killed, leaving me with a burning desire for vengeance. I was then sent to an abusive foster home/orphanage where I learned to survive, and stayed on the streets in a gang."

"Whoa," Harry marvelled, "I feel a connection to you. Before I was suspicious of you because of your mysterious dangerous aura, but now I know your whole story I… I think I'm in love with you."

"I feel the same way!"

Then they shared a kiss full of passion, danger and heat.

* * *

Nyt kicked a gravestone out of anger, her leather boots looking awesome. She was wearing a black corset with red trim and a black tutu, with ripped tights and a skull and crossbones necklace, all from Hot Topic. She had white foundation and red lips, with black eyeliner and mascara. She was so depressed.

"This is rubbish. My parents abandoned me and now I cut myself!" She grumbled.

"I think you're so cool. Do you wanna be my girlfriend?" Harry, the hottest guy in school, asked.

"Sure," Nyt said with a confident smile, then hid it because she was emo, "God, I just wanna go home, worship satan and listen to MCR."

"We've gotta defeat Voldemort," Harry pointed out like a killjoy.

"Voldemort's such a loser," Nyt dismissed. "I could kill him in my sleep. Let's go snog."

"Okay!"

* * *

"You're such a geek!" Voldemort mocked.

"Yeah, you wear glasses and everything!" Wormtail agreed meanly.

"Don't worry," Harry assured Lucina, "I see beneath the weirdness to the awesome girl inside."

Lucina gave him a shy kiss and made a random insane comment. Harry laughed at her adorable awkwardness. Suddenly, Lucina took off her glass, put on some makeup and a beautiful dress described in excruciating detail.

"You look beautiful." Harry said in wonder, so obviously in love with this unique girl. "But of course I knew that already, which just goes to show that Brendan _will_ like me when my spots clear up and maybe even when I still have my braces on. Not all hot guys - like _ME_ - are shallow and go for girls who are stunningly pretty."

"You're so right! They go for slightly plain girls who actually look really nice under the right lighting!" Lucina agreed.

"Not like Stacy." Harry shook his head.

"No, _not at all_ like Stacy, that _bitch_."

"I totally regret making fun of her," Voldemort sobbed.

"Me too!" Wormtail agreed.

"We're such pathetic losers!" They cried in shame and humiliation.


	43. Name Confused Harry

**Harry is cultural... ish and it's Vol-de-mort.**

* * *

"Hey Moldymort!"

"Voldemort."

"Sholdyshort… Voldetaught… Oldybought… Grouldysought… Poldyfought?"

"Voldemort!"

"Goldtrought?"

"VOLEMORT!"

"Volde…"

"!..."

"…Court?"

"Dammit! It's Vol-de-mort!"

"Joldyvort?"

"VOLDEMORT! VOL-DE-MORT!"

"That's a stupid name."

"… It's French."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"You're trying to take over Britain though, not France."

"Maybe, in hindsight, I was trying a little too hard to be mysteriously evil."

"Plus; 'flee from death?'"

"Shut up. No one speaks French."

"I do!"

"Well you're a smug little shit."


	44. Doctor Who Harry

**I imagine the 10th Doctor when I read this, but I suppose the 11th would work too if he;s your favourite! As you can tell, I'm a David Tennant sort of girl.**

* * *

**Harry is the Doctor's son and Hermione is his companion. Pretty simple, right?**

* * *

"May I present to you the fourth wonder of the Universe; the flying garden of Fant… ah," Harry scratched the back of his head sheepishly, peering out the door of the TARDIS, "Dad, I think I might have messed up."

The Doctor popped his head out too, and recoiled, "Yes. I think you might have."

"So where are we?"

"Do you know what? I'm not sure." He looked around with a vague expression. "I'm mean… I think we're Northernish… definitely on Earth…

"You can't be more specific?" Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Rose made me promise to stop licking thing! Unless…" A light blush coloured his cheeks. "Er… ROSE, RIVER, RANI!" He looked defensive at Harry's incredulous look. "What? You have a lot of mothers! MARTHA! DONNA!" he called out into the interior of the TARDIS.

"I think _my_ companion would be more helpful, dad," Harry said with a teasing smile, "Hermione!" He yelled.

"What?" came the exasperated reply as the bushy-haired girl joined them at the door. "Oh," She looked around, "_This_ isn't Fantaja."

"I know," Harry replied, running his fingers through his hair in frustration, "Then where _are_ we?"

She sighed. "Have you checked the scanners?"

Harry blushed, embarrassed, "Um, no?"

Hermione turned to the Doctor, an expectant look on her face.

The Doctor blushed, embarrassed, "Um, no?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Like father, like son," she growled, stalking to the console and turning the screen to face her. "Well, it's the twenty… fourth of June, 1995. We've landed in Little Hangleton graveyard, England."

"It's so not fair how you can read Gallifreyan and I can't!" Harry complained.

"_I_ don't have the attention span of a three year old," Hermione sneered. Harry looked disappointed, but brightened up when the Doctor ruffled his hair. "Don't worry, I was the same when I was 50!" His father assured him.

"You still are," Hermione muttered.

The Doctor began to pout, but froze as the struggle for remembrance showed on his face, "You know… I could have sworn something important happens here, on this day, in this place. I mean, it's ringing a bell..."

"Er, Doctor?" Hermione asked nervously, "The-the scanner. It's saying we were, er, brought here. By an unknown entity."

Harry turned around slowly. "Well that's not good."

"What could be strong enough to pull the TARDIS off track?" The Doctor wondered.

"Er, Dad?" Harry tugged on the Doctor's suit and nodded towards the figure slowly approaching them, "I think we might be about to find out."

The Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver and held it in front of him. The device started squealing, glowing… only to spark, nothing happening. The Doctor cursed and tapped it, holding it up to his ear. "This is not the time to have a tantrum," He scolded, "It's just a bit of magic."

"I thought you said it worked on everything but wood and deadlocks!" Hermione squeaked anxiously.

"Well maybe this particular person is deadlocked!" The Doctor snapped sarcastically.

"But you can't deadlock a person!" Hermione shrieked.

"I don't know then! Maybe they're made out of wood!" The Doctor hissed, pointing his sonic again, only to have it flicker on and off. "Get us out of here, Hermione!" He ordered.

"It won't work! The _thing'_s still holding it!" Hermione bashed on some keys to no avail.

"Harry?" The Doctor said pointedly.

"Er, Dad? You _still_ haven't taught me how to fly the TARDIS. You keep putting it off," Harry complained helplessly.

"Well I've _seen_ what you do to those cauldrons," The Doctor snarled, banging his screwdriver against his palm.

"Don't you have something else - a weapon maybe?" Hermione asked hysterically.

"In case you haven't noticed Hermione, I'm not a violent person." The Doctor spoke through gritted teeth. "It's a trait I'm hoping to pass onto my son!" The Doctor glared darkly at his screwdriver, stuffing into his coat pocket angrily. He glowered at the advancing figure, the fury of the last Time Lords fully unleashed. "You'd better stop right there, because I'm the Doctor, from the planet Gallifrey, in the Constellation of Kasterborous. I'm the Oncoming Storm, the Predator, the-"

"Sorry about this, Dad." Harry apologized, stepping forwards. He raised his hand, said a few words in Old English and the figure went flying backwards into a gravestone, hitting it with a sickening crack and crumpling to the floor. Harry shrugged bashfully in response to their astonished stares. "What? Merlin taught me a few things."


	45. Unspeakable Harry

**INFORMATION NOT AUTHORISED**

* * *

"Take his blood Wormtail!" Voldemort hissed, as Wormtail looked upon the nonchalant Harry Potter with trepidation.

"I'm sorry," Harry spoke in a clipped voice, "I'm not authorised to give out DNA samples."

Voldemort rolled his eyes at Wormtail and gestured towards Harry 'encouragingly'. Despite his second thoughts, Wormtail began to nervously edge towards the Boy-Who-Lived.

"If you come any closer, I'm going to have to take it as a violation of my contracted vows, and it will be permitted to use excessive and maybe even fatal force," Harry warned.

Wormtail took another step.

"Ah well," Harry sighed, before whipping a hidden wand out of his blue sleeve and firing a blast of super-secret-Unspeakable-life-death-magic-awesomeness. Wormtail crumpled to the ground, a shrivelled corpse.

"That was… pretty magnificent," Voldemort admitted reluctantly, "Do you think… you could teach me?"

Harry gave the Dark lord a pitying glance, "I'm not authorized to give out information except to tell you that I'm not authorized to give out information."

"But I'm the Dark Lord!"

"Thank you for confirmation, it will be most helpful in the records." Harry threw up a few hundred privacy wards and pulled out a mirror, "Unspeakable foyer, reception desk. Can you get me Mr Crowe?

"Mr Crowe? Yes, it's Mr Bolt here. I'm going to need a Prophecy. Row 97, S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D about Dark Lord and unknown. That's the one," Harry glanced at the baby-like Voldemort creature, "On second thoughts, get a team ready to escort a Mr Tom Riddle to the Death Veil. I want the paperwork to be done by the time I arrive.

"Also, get me my vault in an bag. Undetectable extension; that should do the trick. I mean, it's inevitable I'll trip and fall through the veil. It's the perfect opportunity for a crossover."


	46. Horcrux Harry

**Harry is a Horcrux and Voldemort isn't sure about the logic in that.**

* * *

"I know, it's a shame. You've really let yourself go."

_"…Who are you talking to?"_

"Oh, just the miniature you in my head. I'm a Horcrux. Because my mother's protection really falls to pieces when the dark, evil thing is inside me, for some reason. Never mind the fact that it worked against you when you were a phantom having fed on Unicorn blood earlier, which I would assume would be stronger than an accidental shard, but, you know; logic, who needs it? Also, I would assume the shard of your soul in my forehead is not a proper Horcrux at all, because you could just destroy it with a killing curse, and you can't do that to any of the others, can you? You need to Basilisk venom or some shit like that. It could be argued that the fragility of the container and the fact that I'm human affects how easily it's destroyed. But that would mean the diary could just be destroyed by setting it on fire. In fact, if I was a real Horcrux, I'd be pretty much impervious to almost everything, including all the minor injuries I've got over the years. But you know; who cares about making rules consistent?"

_"You're a Horcrux?!"_

"Yeah, I think so. When your soul inexplicably shattered (because how many other mothers have died for their babies?), for some reason a shard latched onto the only living thing in the room, not an inanimate object like all your other Horcruxes are. Except for Nagini. I never got why a paranoid Dark Lord would place a piece of his soul into a snake; wouldn't it just die of old age, and it's not very safe. Anyway, it latched onto me and; BOOM, instant mini Tom Riddle in my head."

_"… But why didn't he just possess and kill you?"_

"I dunno. At some point after trying to manipulate me, he felt some honest fondness for the 'pathetic muggleborn he'd chosen to help'."

_"I'd never do that. Mudbloods are there to be enslaved and killed!"_

"… Right. For yet another strange reason; the fact that he's got even less soul than you means he's less of a psychopath. Go figure. Also, he wants to kill you. Sorry about that."

_"What? But he's _my_ Horcrux!"_

"I know. Despite the fact that every other Horcrux has empathized and tried to help you even when they were just beings of maliciousness, this guy is actually pretty nice."

_"If you use math (and Merlin knows most wizards don't) he should have less soul than any of my other Horcruxes. Why would the third Horcrux I make be less sensible than my last unintentional one that I created when I was dying?"_

"… Something about feeding off life forces? Look, Tommy really wants to kill you for taking his spot as Dark Lord or something, so I'm just gonna let him possess me and.. yeah. That's pretty much it. Bye!"

"_Hey, come back! As a Horcrux, I'm going to fall in love with you!"_

"What? Isn't it a little bit like falling in love with yourself?"

_"Pfft, Severitus exists; I don't think we need to worry about the moral implications."_


	47. Bureaucrat Harry

**Hey guys; what happened to the last chapter? I'd had loads of response with the last ones, but this one just sort of… flopped. Not that I'm complaining or anything, but, you know; weird. Ah well, hopefully this one's better. :D**

* * *

**Harry loves paperwork and Wormtail's not that fond of it.**

* * *

"Kill the spare!"

"Um, excuse me? Have you filled out the appropriate forms to classify someone as a spare and then terminate?"

"Which forms were those?" Wormtail asked sheepishly.

"D17, file 4 and J78 part b."

"… No?"

"Well, then I'm afraid it's my duty to inform you that if you go forth with these actions, you'll be forced to fill out the previously mentioned forms and F63 part f and A23 through to A96 part g."

"I-"

"And C56."

"Can you just- I mean, I'll fill them out later." Wormtail said helplessly. "I've just got to do this ritual-"

"A ritual? Have you informed the Department of Magical Rites and Satanic Liturgy of this with 48 hours notice?"

"Not quite-"

"Have you gotten the written permission of every participant?"

"Not yet-"

"Have you performed the official safety protocols, had an inspector from the Department of Safety examine the area and submitted a script of the events at least 24 hours before the ritual is performed, and arranged for at least three officials from the Department of Magical Renewal and Rituals to be present?"

"Well, we have one coming later-"

"Hmm." Harry fixed Wormtail with a disapproving gaze. "I'm sorry to inform you, but I can't allow this ritual to go forward unless… is it Cheondoistic? Because I can make allowances if that's the case."

"I don't think so."

"Very well. In that case, I can arrange for the event to happen on the…" Harry flicked through the pages on his clipboard. "10th of May, next year."

"We kinda need it now-"

"Well I apologize, but if you'd just followed proper procedures…" Harry said pointedly.

Wormtail groaned wearily.

"Ok, fine. I can bump you up to January, but it'll have to be at 2, 2am, that is."

"Thank you," Wormtail sighed in relief.

"Alright, I'm going to need to you to sign here…"

"Right."

"And here…"

"Okay."

"And on this line- no, in the blue quill…"

"Right."

"And here and here…"

"Here?"

"No, that's where the official signs. Right… here."

"Here?"

"Yes, that line there."

"Alright… done!"

"Good. You'll also need to fill in these by tomorrow and submit them to the Department of Magical Rites and Satanic Liturgy." Harry dumped a huge stack of papers in multiple colours into Wormtail's arms. Wormtail stumbled under the sudden weight.

"The first 56 have to be done in a purple quill, the next 70 in a green capitals and the rest have to be done in a multi-coloured quill from Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, alternating through the rainbow every 3.5 lines." Harry said casually.

"Can you repeat that?" Wormtail said faintly, head spinning.

"I'm sorry, I have a board meeting in…" Harry checked his stopwatch, "half an hour. I'm hoping for a promotion, farewell!"

Harry disapparated in a whirl of feather quills and paperwork.

"Now, do I have to fill this out in a green quill or was it an orange one? And is this C17 or G17? The writing's all smudged…


	48. Therapist Harry

**Also, this was not meant to offend anyone who knows someone who has or has themselves a medical condition. I do not know anyone with schizophrenia, and this is probably an exaggerated case. I'm sorry, but all I have to work off is the NHS website! :) I've already offended one person today, I have no desire to make another enemy.**

* * *

**Harry is a therapist and Voldemort has issues.**

* * *

"Hello, Mr Riddle. I'm glad you could make our session today-"

"Yes- my session to destroy you!" Voldemort laughed maniacally, throwing his head back.

"I'm afraid you won't be killing me today."

Harry saw the Dark Lord visibly droop. "Oh."

"And how does that make you _feel_?" Harry asked.

"… Empty." Voldemort admitted.

"Hmmm…" Harry said, writing in his notepad.

_Obsessive_

"You've tried to kill me before, Mr Riddle. Why do you think it would work this time?"

"Because I am Lord Voldemort!"

_Inability to learn from mistakes_

_Irrational_

"You _are_ aware you are _not _a lord?" Harry said gently.

"Of course I'm a Lord! Lord Slytherin! My noble ancestors have granted me the title after my filthy muggle father-…"

_Delusions of grandeur_

"You mentioned your father," Harry interrupted. "Let's talk about him."

"My filthy muggle father was not worthy of the pathetic attention from my squib mother! It would have been better if they had never of met-"

_Abused?_

"Did you grow up with your father, Mr Riddle?" Harry conjured a sofa, which Voldemort sat down on without noticing.

"No, the bastard didn't even know I was alive until I tracked him down and killed him."

_Abused_

"He abandoned me to an orphanage where I ruled supreme. They couldn't hurt me when I had magic-"

_Abused_

_Attachment issues_

"Did you hurt them, Mr Riddle? The boys at the orphanage?"

"…Yes."

"But they hurt you first, didn't they?" Harry questioned soothingly, his green eyes filled with understanding.

"Billy Stubbs tried to push me down the stairs." Voldemort said childishly, his eyes staring at something no one else could see, swaying slightly as if following a person with his eyes. "And so I hurt him back."

_Hallucinations_

_Child-like mentality_

The Dark Lord snapped out of it, anger clouding his vision. "WHAT DID YOU DO? HOW DARE YOU?! WHAT MAGIC WAS THAT!?"

"That wasn't magic, Mr Riddle," Harry said patiently. "That was therapy. And don't worry, I'm under a strict vow of patient confidentiality, I can't reveal a thing. Now I suspect you have a serious case of schizophrenia. We can get through this, together, with prescribed medication and more sessions. You _do_ feel better, don't you?" Harry fixed Voldemort with a piercing gaze.

"Yes." Voldemort muttered reluctantly.

"Would you like to schedule another appointment?" Harry asked expectantly.

"… Yes." The Dark Lord forced out through gritted teeth.

"Good." Harry said, flipping open his diary. "I'll send you an owl-"

POP! POP! POP!

Countless Death Eaters apparated into the graveyard, all falling to their knees when they caught sight of their master.

"They're all out to get me!" Voldemort yelled. "Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!"

_Under the influence of alcohol?_

_… __Definitely schizophrenia._

"Um, e-excuse me? I-I think I h-have anxiety i-issues."

Harry looked up to see a shy-looking man (with a distinct rat look about him) shuffling his feet.

"I have a session at 3, if you're free."


	49. Ravenclaw Harry

**Harry is in Ravenclaw and Voldemort wishes he wasn't.**

* * *

"Excuse me?"

"Sh."

"But I-"

"Sh."

"It's just I-"

"Sh."

"Could you just-"

"Sh!"

"WILL YOU PUT THE BOOK DOWN PLEASE?"

"How dare you?! Do you know how long I've been waiting for this book? There are sixteen in the series! _Sixteen!_ And a continuous running mystery! That hasn't been resolved yet! So will you just shut up and let me finish in peace?!"

"… I'm sorry."

"You should be."

…

"Are you finished yet!?"

"No."

"How slow do you read? It's taking so long."

"It wouldn't be taking so long if you weren't interrupting."

"How long is this book anyway?"

"30 pages- each chapter."

"Urghh! This is going to take forever!"

"You dragged me away from reading, the least you can do is wait for me to finish my book."

"Damn logic."


	50. 50th Special

**Did you guys get the last chapter? I think there's a problem with the new chapter notifications on now. I really hate this site at the moment. Hopefully this one gets to you.**

**Anyway, I was going to just do an A.N, but I think that's against the rules and I hate A.N chapters on other stories so... here's a unique thingy I did about Harry Potter that's not in the graveyard. Aren't you lucky?**

**Also, 50th chapter so I have a legitimate reason! Yay!**

**Thank you to every single reviewer, follower and favourite-r! You made my day, each and every one of you. And special thanks to my beta RUGoing2writethat. You may only have started helping half-way through, but you've really made my chapter a whole lot better!**

* * *

Hermione watched Harry worriedly, "Harry, I really think you should recheck the instructions."

"But I just checked them," Harry bit his bottom lip worriedly, glancing to his left for support.

Ron clapped an arm around Harry's shoulder and laughed. "Don't listen to her, mate, you're doing great! Ha, that rhymed! I'm a poet and I didn't even know it!"

"Emily Dickinson was a poet. Edgar Allan Poe was a poet. _Shakespeare_ was a poet! _You_, Ronald Weasley, are most certainly not!" Hermione hissed angrily, crossing her arms huffily.

There was a silence, permeated only by Harry's confused mumbles.

Hermione followed the unsteady motions of Harry's ladle and twitched, desperately wanting to take over and stir_ in time_ godammit! "Please," she begged. "We'll get an A. _I'll_ get an A!"

"We're more likely to get a P," Ron sniggered, looking entirely unconcerned with his impeding failing grade.

Hermione looked as if she might faint.

"Besides, we agreed, didn't we?" Ron asked, fixing Hermione with a pointed stare, "If the ferret believed us-"

"I didn't think he'd _actually believe_ that muggles don't know how to make fire!" Hermione shrieked in a hushed voice, "They got that in the stone ages!"

Harry looked up confusedly. "What does Malfoy-?"

Hermione screamed and went to grab the handle, "Harry! Stir the other-"

Ron stopped her. "Uh uh. We agreed; no outside help."

"But it'll explo-" Hermione looked helplessly at the smoking cauldron, but Ron still didn't release her, taking in her expression with a smug grin. "We agreed," he said.

Luckily Harry noticed it was time to go the other way, prevented an explosion which likely would have turned everyone in the room into a pile of blackened ashes.

"This isn't the potion to experiment with!" Hermione muttered in consternation, glancing concernedly at the prowling Professor Snape.

"We said; next potion lesson. And this is the next potion lesson," Ron told her.

"I don't want to get a bad mark because Malfoy's an idiot! It had to be a one off- maybe he wasn't listening?" Hermione suggested optimistically.

"Hey Malfoy!" Ron shouted.

"Yes Weasel?" Draco Malfoy asked sneeringly, not looking up from his perfect potion.

"Muggles perform rituals sacrificing the blood of virgins for the favour of their bloodthirsty gods!" Ron told him cheerfully.

"How utterly barbaric of them," The blond sniffed, a disgusted expression on his face.

"Fine; A _twice_ off," Hermione forced out through gritted teeth.

Ron shook his head at her pityingly. "Hey Malfoy!"

"Yes Weasel?"

"Muggles burn vegetables in the hope that they will multiply in the fire!"

"How stupid of them!" Malfoy laughed mockingly, his minions barking out harsh coughs that might have been laughs.

"I just don't believe it!" Hermione gripping her hair, pulling at the roots. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her, "And when did you get so eloquent?"

"Neville," Ron shrugged.

Hermione looked incredulously at the shy boy who beamed at her, tipping his top hat. "Splendid to make your acquaintance this hour, Miss Granger, dear; I'm so sorry I haven't conversed with you on this fine day, I shall amend that as soon as I am done working on this potion!" He said, gestured towards his gleaming cauldron, a halo of light forming around his head.

Hermione turned around slowly, a slight blush on her face. "_Well._"

As they had been conversing, Harry had forgotten to turn the heat up by exactly 30 degrees- and a half. This caused a minor combustion which the Trio were only saved from by Hermione's quick thinking and shield charm.

Harry observed his smouldering potion glumly. "I knew it was too good to be true. If everything's going well, you're obviously overlooking something."

"Murphy's law," Hermione whispered, staring down at the spitting remains of her perfect average in dismay.

Ron was completely ignoring this exchange. Instead, he was hooting in glee at one Gregory Goyle bellowing like a baboon and patting his burning backside.

"How did you get so sadistic?" Hermione asked the red head.

Ron shrugged again, "Neville."

The look Hermione gave the well-dressed Neville Longbottom this time was a lot more apprehensive.

Neville smiled creepily. "Soon," he whispered.


	51. Reporter Harry

**Harry holds the power of the quill and - hang on? Naked pictures of Voldemort?**

* * *

Harry brandished his own version of Rita Skeeter's Quick Quotes Quill, a bright orange version that caused the Dark Lord to shield his eyes. "Potter?"

"It's Harry Potter, reporting for the Daily Prophet. Can I ask you a few questions, Mr Riddle?" Harry asked smoothly, hovering his quill over a notepad of magically replenishing paper.

"How do you know my true name!?" Voldemort demanded furiously, stalking towards the insolent brat. Suddenly, Harry pointed the end of the feather at the Dark Lord, and he felt himself slow down until he was completely still.

"How are you doing that?" Voldemort roared in denial.

"The power of the quill," Harry winked conspiratorially. Then he guided Voldemort towards a stone bench, forcing him to sit. Harry took a seat opposite. "And I have my sources. So, what have you been doing for the last few years? After your vanquishing, I mean. It must have been hard."

"You already know Potter. You… defeated me in your first year." Voldemort forced out bitterly.

"I meant before those silly little events! My readers already know about that. They want new, juicy details."

"… I was in Albania." Voldemort said cautiously. He spotted the quill scribble something that was definitely longer than that statement, and craned his head curiously.

**'The Dark Lord let a harsh sigh escape his lips. His red eyes blinked as they grew haunted, drifting to more troubled times. "I spent some time in Albania," he admitted darkly. Clearly, there was more to this story than he let on.**  
**And so, of course, I dug deeper.**  
**"It was difficult." The Dark Lord gave in, as I knew he would. "But I did a lot of thinking and I realized… I don't have to be evil."**  
**At this point, dear readers, I was just as shocked as you are. The famed Dark Lord; renouncing wrongdoing?**  
**But he confirmed that, indeed, his intention was a horse of that colour.**  
**"I finally realized that crime doesn't pay. And neither does killing people."**  
**"-Unless you're an assassin." I had to add at this point, and he laughed. It was at that moment that I realized how truly handsome Mr Tom Riddle is. Ladies, let me tell you, sweeping brown hair, sparkling ruby eyes and abs to die for, this man is not to be missed. Which is why I'm recommending him for the Top 10 Bachelor List in Witch Weekly. With the Lordship of Slytherin, a physique to make the hottest Quidditch star jealous, and a bad boy persona; Tom Riddle is exactly what you're looking for.**  
**He even has a soft side, which I discovered after questioning him on his childhood.**  
**"The boys in the orphanage were cruel," he sniffed, a manly tear welling up in his gorgeous eyes. "But I struggled through, and became someone. I think my perished mother would be proud."**  
**And if you're wondering why I'm calling the Dark Lord; Tom Riddle, it's because that's his true name. Behind his cruel exterior is a heart-breaking and yet inspirational story about overcoming expectations and rising to the challenge (pg 36-38).' **

"I said none of this!" Voldemort objecting, struggling against the quill's invisible hold (Harry had somehow managed to produce another Quick-Quick Quill from nowhere to write the article). "And what's this poppycock about 'a manly tear' and 'tragic backstory'?"

"My readers want to know the real you. They want to see the man behind the mask. They want to know you're human. Rehabilitated Dark Lords make wonderful biographies," Harry eyed the Dark Lord with a hungry look that caused him to feel extremely uncomfortable.

"That's another point- what nonsense are you going on about? 'Turning over a new leaf'- I want to kill you, Potter!" Voldemort blustered.

"Don't worry; the public will have forgotten all about that when we leak some nude photos of you- with a glamour on, of course," Harry declared, looking up and down Voldemort's snakeish appearance with disgust, "Bad boys sell papers. Evil bastards do not."


	52. Shakespearian Harry

**Harry's Shakespeare and Voldemort's a 14 year old girl.**

* * *

"What foul thing is't I see before mine eyes?" Harry reeled back dramatically. "He hath killed many, and it marks on his soul like stain on a shirt."

"… Who are you talking to?" Voldemort asked in bewilderment.

"Why, to mine gracious audience! They have gathered on this fine eve to observe my tale of tragedy. I find mine self indebted to each and every one."

"There is no audience Potter. It's all in your head."

"What nonsense is this? The man is mad… or else this is a dream. Is't, for I never predicted such an imaginary figment to be within mine ability. And yet, here thee stand, flesh and blood. Are thee real, or a figment of mine?" Harry reached out a trembling hand towards the Dark Lord, who batted it away in irritation. Harry jumped back again.

"Wherefore doth thou wear thine scales like a shroud of shadows? Dost thine not possess the ability through thine witchcraft to assume an alternate form? I see no reason why thine should become such a hideous creature!"

"Are you insulting my looks… in Shakespearian?" Voldemort asked incredulously.

"Twas indeed mine intentions. Dost thou find offence in it?"

"Yes! I didn't even mean to look like this- it just happened, okay? Stop insulting me!" Voldemort shouted sensitively.

"If I offend thee, I humbly beg thy forgiveness. I throw mine self to mine knees in woe and can only pray to the gods that thou wilt be merciful."

"Look, this is ridiculous. You speak like you're from the Elizabethan times. If anything, it should be me speaking like that. I'm the fifty year old here!"

"If't pleases you, permit freedom of speak to settle on thine tongue and converse with me in mine language. Verily, I would welcome the change. T'wears on mine mind to translate thou primitive tongue."

"Primitive!?"

"Aye, for I see no other explanation as to why dost thou drop and shorten thine words. Did thine mother never teach thee how to converse?"

"I was raised in an orphanage, Potter. I didn't know who my father was until I was sixteen."

"Ah, what a heavy tale. The bastard; deprived of parentage. T'was a blot on thine honour, I might expect."

"It was, actually," Voldemort sniffed, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"Come now boy, wipe away thine tears. I shall take thee as mine serving boy."

"I am most grateful for thine kindness." Voldemort bowed low.

"Aye sirrah. 'Tis but a small gift, and one I give gladly. Hie! We must away!"


	53. Vampire Harry

**Harry is a vampire. And not the Twilight kind.**

* * *

Harry swiped his tongue along the cut on his forearm and moaned in pleasure at the copper tang of blood.

Voldemort backed away.

Slowly.

Very slowly.


	54. Mother Hen Harry

**Harry is an awful lot like Molly Weasley and do you know what Voldemort needs?**

* * *

"Oh, your cheeks are so hollow! You look like a stick- have you not been eating at all?" Harry fluttered his hands as he took in Lord Voldemort's new appearance.

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "I've been possessing a stillborn child, so no, I haven't been eating."

"Oh that poor child," Harry began to sniff.

"Poor me! I had to survive off berries and I wore the same unwashed rags for months-"

"No!" Harry gasped, looking physically sick.

"Yes."

"I just- I-" Harry couldn't even muster up the words to describe how he felt. It was just so _horrifying._

"I never had any love as a child." Voldemort choked out. "I was raised in an orphanage alone. And every night I'd cry to myself because no one cared-"

"Oh my poor dear," Harry cooed softly. "I care." Harry pulled the Dark Lord into a tight hug, rubbing slowly on his back. This poor man had never had any hugs. If he'd just had someone to tuck him in at night then maybe he wouldn't be so evil-

And then Harry spotted Voldemort's smirk, reflected on a marble tombstone.

Harry pulled away slowly, taking deep breaths to control himself. "How. Dare. You." Harry spoke in punctuated anger keeping a tight grip on Voldemort's arm. "Did you think I could be fooled that easily? Did you think I was _naive?_"

Voldemort looking worriedly up at the gathering storm clouds in the sky and cowered away from the furious Boy-Who-Lived. "No- I mean I-"

"You have no respect!"

Voldemort nodded frantically.

"Do you know what young whippersnappers like you need?"

"…No?"

"Chores. Lots and lots of them. Oh just you wait. I'll have you clearing out the chicken pens, dicing the onions, degnoming the garden, washing up... you need love, young man. Good, _firm l_ove."

Voldemort squeaked as he was dragged away.

Wormtail sniggered. "Rather him than me."


	55. Sheldon Harry

**Harry is Sheldon and Wormtail/Luke Skywalker? What's the difference.**

* * *

"How interesting. Without your hand, you're just like Luke Skywalker."

An awkward silence.

"You're standing in my spot." Harry said stubbornly, narrowing his eyes at Wormtail. The rodent jumped where he stood, just under the shadow of a gravestone. "W-what?"

"That spot. It's mine." Harry repeated, stating it like it was obvious.

"I-I'm sorry? H-how can you own a spot?"

"That place is the perfect spot for the shade to reach and yet have the sun warm it to a temperature where I'm neither shivering nor is my skin crawling. It has the perfect vantage point to watch the Dark Lord's resurrection and be shielded from any stray spells he might be inclined to 'shoot off' after his little 'wake up'." Harry said with a patronizing smile.

"O-okay! F-fine! I-I'll l-leave the spot if it means s-so much to you." Wormtail scurried away to a different position, grumbling.

Harry looked smug and tried to move, but then sighed and stared down at his ropes as if they were personally insulting him. "Darn it. It appeared I am trussed up- like a turkey, one might say," Harry snickered.

Wormtail didn't laugh, and Harry looked frustrated. "That was a 'subtle' hint for you to untie me."

Wormtail ignored him.

"Hint, hint."

Nothing.

"Hint, hint… LAVENDER!" He rapped on the stone three times. "LAVENDER!" Knock, knock, knock. "LAVENDER!"

Silence.

"She'll be here in a moment," pause, "and you'll be kneed in a sensitive place, I can tell you!" Harry sniffed.

Wormtail snorted.

"Don't snort. It makes you seem even less intelligent than you already are. LAVENDER!" Knock, knock, knock. "LAVENDER!"

Voldemort rose from the cauldron covering his ears. "Will you stop that incessant noise, otherwise I'll rip your intestines from your stomach and choke you with them!"

"That seems like an uncomfortable way to die. Can I choose another option?"

"Urghh!"

"...I hope you sterilised that knife. I could get Hepatitis C, and then where would I be? Hopefully out of these ropes!" Harry laughed.

No one else did.

"It's funny because I was just kidding. If untreated I could get liver cancer and die. Ha ha ha.!

A long silence.

"Seriously, sterilize that knife..." said Harry.


	56. Angst Harry

**This is not trying to mock suicide, this is mocking _fanfiction_ about suicide. Suicide is a serious issue and not one I want to make petty.**

* * *

**Harry is depressed and Voldemort just wants to kill him himself.**

* * *

"I should just end it all-" Harry sobbed, holding the knife to his wrist.

"No no no!" Voldemort shouted, wrestling the blade from his grip. "That's my job!"

"Cedric is dead!" Harry cried, raising the gun to his head.

"Stop it! Just stop it!" Voldemort disarmed Harry and the firearm flew out of his hand.

"S-Sirius is dead!" Harry wailed, pointing his wand at his chest.

"That hasn't even happened yet!" Voldemort yelled in exasperation, disarming Harry yet again. "Why are you so depressed?"

"I love angst. I just love it. I don't know why, but seeing others brought to their lowest points just gives me a warm and happy glow inside." Harry choked out, popping the cork out of a phial of poison.

Voldemort groaned and knocked the glass out of Harry's grasp, letting it shatter on the floor. Then he paused, "Actually, it kind of makes sense-"

"Not you too!-"

"Shut up Wormtail. No really, I mean; you've gone through all kinds of shit. Killed someone at 11, almost died at 12, nearly had your soul sucked out at 13. You should be _way_ more messed up than you are- but that _doesn't_ explain why you keep writing all. These. Damn. Notes!" Voldemort tugged the quill away from Harry, who looked up at the Dark Lord with frantic and haunted eyes.

"Stop it!" Harry yelled, trying to keep hold of his writing implement. "I must write notes! So many notes! More notes! To everyone!"

"No!" Voldemort bellowed, finally taking possession of the quill, causing a hush to fall upon the graveyard. "No more notes! Just _stop_ with the goddamn notes! They are a literary device designed purely to cause sadness and pain. I declare; not any longer!"

Harry looked up with tears in his eyes. "B-but, I love to feel intense emotional death. It helps to clear my feels! Sometimes you just need a good cry-"

"And sometimes you don't!" Voldemort said harshly, snapping the quill in half and turning away in a dramatic swirl of black robes. Harry's haze of depression cleared for a second, just long enough for him to wonder _how_ exactly Voldemort and Snape did that.

Voldemort turned around, only to spot Harry wandering away slowly. "Where are you going?" Voldemort yelled.

"To find a bath tub!"

"Damn it!"


	57. Hideous Harry

**Harry's so ugly, godammit I just can't look...!**

* * *

_Crack!_

"Oh Merlin! Oh no! I can't look!" Voldemort cowered away and covered his face. "At least wear a mask or something-!"

Harry pouted, causing a crack to appear down the middle of a gravestone. "Hermione says I'm perfect just the way I am."

"Yeah, well she's a night troll." Voldemort rolled his eyes. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

"Ha! You missed!"

"That's because I can't look! Because of your horrible face!"

"Hey, you're no flower yourself."

"Sweetheart, compared to you, I'm Scarlett Johansson."

"… How do you know a muggle actress?"

"I get a lot of gossip magazines, okay?"


	58. Potioneer Harry

**So, my friends told me I have Peter Pettigrew hands today. Thanks guys! *sarcastic thumbs up***

**Anyway, thank you to all my reviewers! Every single one of you is a beautiful shining example of a human being, and I just love you all. Some of you have been here from the first chapter, some of you only joined in my journey recently. No matter the length, your support means everything to me.**

**… ****I imagine that speech done on a pedestal, with a spotlight and everything. Ah… where I belong. *gaze into the distance*.**

* * *

**Harry wants his award and Wormtail's going to help him!**

* * *

Harry surveyed the items set out on the grass and mentally ran through the possible rites to renew a body. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "This is fascinating," he murmured excitedly. "The chance to observe a ritual which hasn't been carried out for at least 70 years! And to be part of it too! I'll definitely be published in the Science Journal for this."

Wormtail looked confused. "Um, you _want_ to be part of the ritual?"

"Indeed! It'd be a unique opportunity to study magic in its root form!" Harry said enthusiastically. "Can I take notes?"

Wormtail raised his eyebrows. "If you want to."

Harry removed a notepad and pen from his pocket, looking up expectantly.

Wormtail waved his wand over the ground beneath Harry's feet, and from it rose a silvery white powder. "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

Harry frowned. "Aren't you going to measure that out? _Goldman's Guide to Potion Mastery_ states that 'adding the proper amount of ingredients is crucial in maintaining the consistency and proportions of a potion, ensuring the most effective results.'"

Wormtail recoiled. "Do you have that memorised?" he asked incredulously.

Harry shrugged. "Professor Snape wasn't being very fair in his marking, and so I resolved to raise the quality of my potion making skills. Now he can't give me any lower than an Acceptable."

"…Okay." Wormtail said uncertainly, and then looked sheepish. "And I, er, don't have any scales."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You should have been prepared."

"Well I wasn't!" Pettigrew snapped. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly to calm himself. He shuddered and moved to the side of the huge black cauldron, holding his arm over the rim. He pulled a silver dagger from the swathes of his robes and placed the cold edge on his wrist, steeling himself for the task ahead. And then Harry spoke up.

"Why are you doing _that?_"

Wormtail growled. "What _now?"_

"The ritual calls for 'flesh of the servant, willingly given.' 'Flesh is the soft substance of a human or other animal body that consists of muscle and fat; for vertebrate, this especially includes muscle tissue (skeletal muscle), as opposed to bones and viscera.' There is most certainly bone in the hunk of meat you are about to chop off."

Wormtail turned slightly green at the Boy Who Lived's choice of words, but furrowed his brow nonetheless. "So what do you suggest I do?"

"Well, _ideally_ you should have prepared the meat beforehand (ha- get it?)…"

"Well I didn't." Wormtail said flatly.

"I know." Harry rolled his eyes. "The rite _also_ involves 'blood of the enemy, forcibly taken,' which wouldn't work either, as I am perfectly willing and extremely enthusiastic. Shame, there goes my _Quae Studia_ award." Harry sighed wistfully.

"We could always reschedule it…" Wormtail offered reluctantly.

"Oo! Could we?" Harry perked up. "I'll bring along an unwilling victim!"


	59. Drunk Harry

**Harry's hammered and Voldemort's basically his mum.**

* * *

"Ha!" Harry barked out a harsh laugh and swayed slightly. "You got no nose! How do you smell?" he slurred.

Voldemort looked bewildered and rather angry. "I-"

"You don't!" Harry interrupted, giggling. "Because you have no nose- hic!" He fell to the floor, clutching his stomach.

"Are you drunk?!" the Dark Lord spat, staring down at the dribbling boy with an expression of disgust.

"No," Harry said stubbornly, trying unsuccessfully to clumsily hide his bottle of Firewhiskey behind his back as he staggered to his feet.

"Well take a Sobering Potion!" Voldemort snapped, crossing his arms imperiously. "I don't need an inebriated fool for an enemy!"

"I'm not a fool," Harry supported himself on a nearby stone angel. "I'm just very, very, very, very, very, very…" Harry's eyes crossed and he shook his head to clear it, "very happy! Very happy are me! Happy, happy, happy…" Harry began to sing blearily, doing a strange sort of bobbing dance; which only made him lose his balance. "Because I'm happy… clap along if you feel like... happiness is what you wanna do," Harry went to clap but couldn't. He stared at the half-empty bottle at his hand in confusion, and then shrugged and took a swig.

"And why are you drunk?" Voldemort stared down his nose at Harry (well, he would've if he'd had one) disapprovingly. "You're underage."

"Are you bloody kidding me?" Harry asked incredulously, shaking his Firewhiskey. "I'm in a bloody tournament where I could die any second. I resur… I resurrect... I reserve! That's it; reserve the right to get pissed. Plus, I'm in a thingy for over-aged people so it's legal! Ha! Those morons!" Harry collapsed into peals of laughter again. They tapered off and he focused on the snake-faced man in front of him. "I bloody love you, you know? You're my best friend! You've always been there, every year without fail." Tears of emotion welled in the corners of Harry's eyes. "You're just so… bloody… depend… able." Harry's eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped against the stone, sliding down the marble surface.

Voldemort stood, staring at his nemesis' snoring form. He looked towards Wormtail, hoping for some support, only to find his 'devoted' servant skipping around the cauldron and pouring in various mixtures, singing 'Drink up me hearties, yo ho, yo ho!"  
The Dark Lord sighed and decided he couldn't be bothered. He pointed his wand at Potter. "Crucio!"

Harry awoke with a snort and a confused whimper. He sat bolt upright, but immediately clenched his head, sinking back down onto the grass with a pained groan. "You can stop that, okay?" He said grumpily, voice muffled by the fact that he had his head buried in his arms. "My fracking head hurts far more than any torture charm you could cast. Ow! Merlin! Just make it stop!"

"Okay!" Voldemort said cheerfully, starting forwards. "Avada Ked-"

"I didn't mean that!" Harry complained, holding out an arm defensively. "I have a hangover! Just ignore everything I say for the next few hours. Unless you could bring me an Hangover Remover?"

"You brought this on yourself. "Voldemort said smugly, purveying the fallen form of his pathetic enemy. "Now you deal with the conse-"

"Blarrrghh!"

"Hey, those were my feet!"


End file.
